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BY  THE  SAME  AUTHOR 


ARNAUD'S  MASTERPIECE:  A 
Romance  of  the  Pyrenees.  12mo. 
$1.25. 

CHURCHES  AND  CASTLES  OF 
MEDI/EVAL  FRANCE.  With  24 
Full-page  Illustrations.  Crown 
8vo.  $1.50. 


REMBRANDT 

A   ROMANCE   OF    HOLLAND 


REMBRANDT 


REMBRANDT 


A    ROMANCE    OF    HOLLAND 


BY 

WALTER    CRANSTON    LARNED 


ILLUSTRATED 


NEW   YORK 

CHARLES    SCRIBNER'S    SONS 
1899 


COPYRIGHT,  1898,  BY 
CHARLES  SCRIBNER'S   SONS 


TROW  DIRECTORY 
PRINTING  AND  BOOKBINDING  COM 
NEW  YORK 


THIS   BOOK 
TO 

MY    WIFE 

THE   INSPIRATION   OF   MY   WORK 
AND   OF   MY  LIFE 


CHAPTER  ?AGE 

I.  From  Leyden  to  Amsterdam,   ....                      1 

II.    An  "vening  with  Franz  Hals, 6 

III.  The  Met  Jng  with  Albrecht  von  Stoltzing,       ,.        ,        .21 

IV.  Finding  the  Barges, 30 

V.  The  Studio  in  the  Warehouse, .,..,.    36 

VI.  Saskia, .40 

VII.  At  the  House  of  Sylvius, .  44 

VIII.  The  Painting  of  the  Portrait,  .  ,48 

IX.  Dr.  Tulp  Orders  a  Picture,  ..,,„.  55 

X.  Saskia's  Portrait  Forgotten,  ,  .  61 

XI.  Albrecht  Intercedes,        .......    71 

XII.  Too  Late,  .  .  .  .  .  .  ,  .  .83 

XIII.  The  Anatomy  Lesson  Begun 93 

XIV.  What  Can  Come  From  a  Picture,    .        .        .        .        ,  104 
XV.    Saskia  and  Rembrandt, 112 

XVI.    Lazarus, 124 

XVII.  Hildegarde  von  Lebenthal  to  Undine  von  Klarbrunnen,    .  133 

XVIII.    The  Painting  of  the  Portraits, 141 

XIX.  Rembrandt  Goes  to  the  Leyden  Mill,       .        ,        .        .148 

XX.    Saskia's  Letter '     .        .154 

XXI.    Hildegarde  to  Undine, 165 

XXII.    Hildegarde  in  Disguise, '  .  172 

XXIII.  Albrecht  Seeks  Hildebrand, 179 

XXIV.  The  Wedding, .  191 

XXV.    Coming  to  the  Home, 202 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER 

XXVI.  Lazarus  and  Isaac 

XXVII.  Albrecht  Comes  to  the  Castle,    . 

XXVIII.  Hildegarde  in  Armor,          .... 

XXIX.  The  Home  in  the  Breedestraat,    . 

XXX.  Saskia's  Sacrifice  for  Art 

XXXI.  Hildegarde  Seems  Hard-Hearted, 

XXXII.  The  Palma  Vecchio,    .... 

XXXIII.  The  Night- Watch  is  Ordered,      . 

XXXIV.  Hendrickje  Comes  to  Amsterdam, 
XXXV.  The  Sketch  of  the  Night-Watch, 

XXXVI.  Again  Hildegarde  to  Undine, 

XXXVII.  The  Soldiers  in  the  Night-Watch  are  Painted, 

XXXVIII.  Hendrickje's  Portrait,          .... 

XXXIX.  The  Death  of  Saskia, 

XL.  Albrecht  and  Lazarus,         .... 

XLI.  Albrechl  is  Happy  at  Last,  . 

XLII.  The  Inventory  is  Made,       .... 

XLIII.  The  Home  Sold  at  Auction, 

XLIV.  Hildegarde  Finds  Rembrandt,      . 

XLV.  A  Wedding  in  St.  Sebald's  Church,     . 

XLVI.  Help  for  Rembrandt, 

XLVII.  How  Titus  Opened  the  Print-Shop,     . 

XLVII1.  Rembrandt  Marries  Hendrickje, . 

XLIX.  The  Order  from  the  Syndics,      . 

L.  The  Last  Days  of  Hondrickje,     . 

LI.  The  Death  of  Rembrandt 


209 

215 
226 
239 
248 
257 
265 
275 
284 
291 
303 
306 
313 
320 
324 
33i 
337 
344 
350 
361 
367 
374 
379 
385 
392 
397 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

Rembrandt,      .  .  .  Frontispiece 

Opposite 
Page 

The  Anatomy  Lesson, 98 

The  Accountant  (Lazarus),       .  .  130 

Saskia,   ....                „  .  194 

The  Night- Watch,  .  ...  276 

Portrait  of  a  Girl  (Hendrickje),       .  .                .314 

Hendrickje, -3/0 

The  Syndics  of  the  Cloth  Hall,         .  .  392 


REMBRANDT 

A    ROMANCE    OF    HOLLAND 

CHAPTER  I 

From  Ley  den  to  Amsterdam 

E  white  clouds,  rushing  up  from  the  North 
JL  Sea,  piled  themselves  together  like  snow- 
white  mountains  as  they  neared  the  zenith.  Rem 
brandt  looked  up  to  them  as  he  stepped  toward 
the  big,  heavy  canal-barge  that  was  to  take  him 
to  Amsterdam.  His  father,  the  miller,  Harmenz 
and  his  wife,  turned  back  toward  the  mill  as  the 
moorings  of  the  canal-barge  were  cast  off  and  the 
boat  very  slowly  began  to  make  its  way  down 
the  river.  The  ardent  painter  stood  on  the  deck  at 
the  stern  and  waved  his  hand  in  farewell.  Long  he 
watched  as  the  mill  slowly,  very  slowly,  faded  in 
the  distance.  Even  until  near  evening  it  seemed 
as  if  he  could  see  .those  giant  arms  revolving  in 
their  powerful  sweeps.  Until  the  sun  was  set  he 
knew  the  mill-home  was  reflected  in  the  river,  and 
just  before  the  sun  set  there  came  a  mellow  glow 
that  suffused  the  green  of  the  meadows  with 
yellow. 


REMBRANDT 

As  Rembrandt  looked  upon  the  mill  in  that  last 
sunset  gleam  there  was  the  glow  of  life  upon  the  re 
volving  sails  ;  there  was  a  sun-pierced  shadow  over 
the  rooms  where  dwelt  the  father  and  the  mother. 
Rembrandt  watched  until  not  even  a  touch  of  the 
life-glow  was  left  on  the  highest  sail  of  the  mill. 
As  night  came  on,  the  barge  was  moored  to  the 
bank,  and  all  betook  themselves  to  rest  in  the  little 
cabin  at  the  stern.     The  painter  lay  down  in  his 
narrow  berth,  seeking  rest;  but  he  thought  not  of 
his  home  in  the  Leyden  mill,  because  the  fever  of 
his  art  was  upon  him.     What  he  did   think  was, 
"  What  can  I  do  in  Amsterdam  in  my  painting?  " 
He  woke  early  in  the  morning,  just  as  the  level 
beams  of  the   rising  sun   awakened  the  green  of 
the  meadows.     The  barge  was  still  moored  to  the 
bank ;   but  Peter,  the   bargeman,  was  awake  and 
already  preparing  to  go  on  with  the  slow  journey, 
while   Geertje,  the  wife,  was  making  ready  the 
coffee  and  rolls  and  cheese  for  the  morning  meal. 
"Peter,"    said    Rembrandt,   "stand    there  just 
where  you  are.     Never  mind  about  the  boat  for  a 
while.     I  want  to  make  a  sketch  of  you  in  this 
brilliant  light." 

The  surprised  bargeman  thought  his  passenger 
was  demented.  Why  in  the  world  should  anyone 
want  to  paint  his  homely  features!  Nevertheless 
he  did  as  he  was  bid,  and  stood  there,  rope  in 
hand,  until  the  artist,  with  a  few  swift,  sure 
touches,  completed  the  sketch. 

"  Now,  I  must  have  Geertje,  too  !  Come, 
Geertje  !  Come  here  ;  I  want  to  paint  your  pict 
ure  beside  your  good  man's." 


FROM  LEYDEN  TO  AMSTERDAM 

"  Nay,  sir,  but  the  coffee  will  be  burnt." 

"  Never  mind  the  coffee,  I  say.  Come  here 
while  this  light  lasts.  I  can't  get  the  shadows  if 
you  keep  me  waiting." 

"  Nay,  nay  !  Nobody  never  painted  me,  nor  I 
ain't  fit  to  be  painted.  What  ails  you  to  be  jest 
ing  that  way  with  a  poor  woman  ?  " 

"  I  am  not  jesting,  Geertje.  I  want  to  make  a 
sketch  of  you  in  this  light.  Come  quick,  I  say,  or 
I  shall  lose  my  chance  !  " 

Grumbling  and  muttering  the  old  woman  came 
out  of  the  cabin  at  last,  much  offended  because 
she  thought  the  painter  was  making  a  jest  of  her. 
She  was  very  homely  and  she  knew  it,  but  now 
her  cheeks  was  flushed  with  anger  and  her  eyes 
were  flashing.  Her  face  was  full  of  character. 
She  would  have  refused  to  come  if  she  had  dared, 
but  few  could  resist  Rembrandt  in  his  imperious 
moods.  She  put  one  hand  on  the  taffrail  and 
raised  the  other  in  threatening  remonstrance,  and 
was  about  to  express  her  outraged  feelings  in 
most  forcible  language. 

"  There,  that  will  do,"  said  Rembrandt.  "  Don't 
say  a  word  ;  don't  move.  It's  just  right  as  it  is. 
I  don't  think  I  could  better  it.  Ah  !  that  light  is 
perfect.  Quiet,  please  ;  it  will  only  be  a  few  min 
utes." 

The  old  woman  was  too  astonished  to  speak, 
and  actually  posed  most  excellently  for  the  artist 
because  almost  paralyzed  with  amazement. 

In  a  very  short  time  the  master-hand  had  com 
pleted  the  sketch,  and  the  insulted  Geertje  had 
not  said  one  word. 


REMBRANDT 

"  Oh,  thank  you  !  thank  you  !  These  are  good 
sketches — the  light  was  wonderful.  I  think  I  may 
make  them  up  into  a  picture.  Now  get  the 
breakfast,  for  I  am  hungry." 

She  turned  in  silence  and  went  back  to  the 
cabin,  where,  soon  after,  the  three  sat  down  for 
their  simple  meal. 

The  bargeman  and  his  wife  stared  at  each  other 
open  mouthed,  both  overcome  with  wonder.  Why 
in  the  world  should  anyone  want  to  paint  them  ? 
It  was  a  great  and  altogether  inexplicable  event 
in  their  simple  lives,  and  they  had  no  words  for 
adequate  expression  of  their  feelings. 

Rembrandt  was  absorbed  in  thought.  Should 
he  put  these  two  character-sketches  into  a  picture 
and  put  in  a  background  of  the  landscape  about 
him,  or  would  the  two  heads  be  enough  without  a 
background  of  landscape  ? 

"  I  will  make  a  sketch  of  the  scene,"  he  said  to 
himself,  "  and  then  I  can  tell  better." 

Immediately  after  breakfast  the  painter  went  to 
the  deck  again  and  began  his  sketch.  The  level 
lines  of  the  dykes,  the  smooth  surface  of  the  water, 
a  cottage  with  a  red-tiled  roof,  a  windmill  on  the 
bank,  far-stretching  meadows — it  was  a  picture 
as  full  of  the  Dutch  spirit  as  were  the  heads  of 
the  bargeman  and  his  wife. 

"No;  I  will  not  put  them  together,"  thought 
the  painter.  "  Either  is  better  alone.  I  will  work 
them  up  separately." 

By  this  time  the  barge  was  under  as  full  head 
way  as  it  ever  attained,  for  the  wind  was  favor 
able  and  the  great  brown  sail  was  spread.  Peter 

4 


FROM  LEYDEN  TO  AMSTERDAM 

kept  pushing  with  his  long  pole  and  Geertje  han 
dled  the  tiller  ;  but  every  little  while  some  peasant 
would  come  to  the  bank  and  motion  for  them  to 
stop,  as  he  had  something  he  wanted  to  send  to 
Amsterdam  for  sale.  It  might  be  a  pig  or  a  calf, 
perhaps  a  bale  of  hay,  or  some  fresh  vegetables. 
Often  the  peasants  themselves  came  on  board  to 
take  care  of  their  goods.  The  barge  was  soon 
nearly  full  with  its  curious  cargo,  and  its  pictur- 
esqueness  at  once  appealed  to  Rembrandt,  who 
straightway  made  a  sketch  of  it. 

But  the  painter  was  becoming  impatient  about 
the  slow  progress  and  the  continual  stopping. 

"  How  far  is  it  to  Haarlem,  Peter?"  he  said. 

"  It  is  no  very  far,  master.  If  ye  take  the  road 
and  walk  there,  ye'd  get  there  sooner.  Will  ye 
bide  the  night  there,  master  ?  " 

"  Yes,  Peter,  I  think  so.  I  want  to  see  a  paint 
er  there  named  Hals — Franz  Hals.  I  think  I  will 
walk  on  and  you  will  be  there  to-night.  You  will 
spend  the  night  there?" 

"  Yes,  sure,  master.  We  always  bide  the  night 
at  Haarlem,  and  you'll  find  us  by  the  second 
bridge  above  the  town-hall.  We'll  no  leave  till 
ye  come." 


CHAPTER  II 

An  Evening  with  Franz  Hals 

REMBRANDT  left  the  boat  and  took  the 
road  that  led  to  Haarlem.  It  was  a  narrow 
road,  so  narrow  that  there  seemed  hardly  room 
for  two  wagons  to  pass,  especially  as  there  were 
ditches  on  each  side,  and  a  serious  accident  would 
surely  happen  if  one  turned  too  far  out  either  to 
the  right  or  to  the  left.  In  places  the  road  was 
shaded  by  trees  on  each  side,  pollard  willows  and 
elms  mostly,  and  beneath  the  shade  of  these  it  was 
pleasant  to  walk.  The  painter  walked  gayly  on. 
He  was  in  high  spirits,  for  the  path  he  trod  was 
leading  him  to  the  Mecca  of  his  art.  Everything 
he  saw  seemed  a  subject  for  a  picture.  A  dozen 
times  he  was  minded  to  stop  and  sketch,  but  he 
refrained,  fearing  that  he  might  reach  Haarlem 
too  late  to  meet  Franz  Hals. 

Rembrandt  Harmenz  van  Rhyn  was  at  this  time 
an  extremely  handsome  man.  He  was  twenty- 
five  years  of  age,  in  the  very  prime  of  a  beauty 
still  partly  that  of  youth,  but  already  impressed 
with  the  thoughtfulness  and  intensity  of  genius. 
His  eyes  were  large  and  dark,  set  rather  close  to 
gether.  The  eyebrows  were  strongly  marked  and 
almost  met  above  the  nose,  giving  the  expression 
of  concentration  both  of  sight  and  thought.  The 

6 


AN  EVENING  WITH  FRANZ  HALS 

nose  itself  was  large  and  a  little  coarse  in  form, 
but  the  mouth  was  mobile  and  sensitive.  The 
lower  part  of  the  face  was  refined  and  firm  in  out 
line,  though  the  chin  was  very  strong  and  firmly 
modelled.  Abundant,  clustering  curls  surround 
ed  the  head  and  made  both  a  frame  and  a  back 
ground  for  the  powerful  and  most  expressive 
face.  At  this  time  he  was  close  shaven.  There 
was  neither  beard  nor  mustache.  In  later  days 
he  wore  both,  and  the  expression  of  his  face  was 
thereby  greatly  changed,  and  not  for  the  better. 
He  was  of  middle  height,  but  had  a  haughty  car 
riage  that  made  him  seem  much  taller  than  he 
really  was.  If  anyone  had  met  him  that  morning 
walking  along  the  narrow  road  that  led  to  Haar 
lem,  Ite  would  surely  have  wished  to  turn  back 
and  look  again  upon  a  face  and  form  so  plainly 
impressed  with  unusual  power. 

Rembrandt  was  by  no  means  unaware  of  his 
physical  charms.  Perhaps  for  that  reason  he 
painted  his  own  portrait  again  and  again. 

He  walked  on  and  on  with  a  light  step,  and 
soon  the  walls  and  spires  of  Haarlem  were  seen 
beyond  the  meadows.  Those  walls !  What  a 
history  was  there  !  What  deeds  of  heroism  had 
been  done  upon  them  in  the  struggle  against  the 
Spanish  tyranny  !  That  church  with  the  great 
spire  !  It  was  there  the  burghers  worshipped, 
when  they  were  not  fighting  in  the  awful  time  of 
the  siege.  These  stirring  events  were  still  fresh 
in  the  mind  of  every  Hollander,  and  Rembrandt's 
pulse  throbbed  as  he  thought  of  the  brave  deeds 
of  his  countrymen,  and  he  said  to  himself  even 

7 


REMBRANDT 

then  :  "  Some  day  I  will  paint  these  great  men,  and 
future  ages  shall  know  of  our  Dutch  heroes." 

Then  he  entered  the  town  and  began  to  wander 
about  its  narrow  streets.  He  did  not  know  where 
Franz  Hals  lived ;  but  he  thought  he  would  go  to 
the  place  in  front  of  the  town-hall,  where  surely 
the  best  inn  would  be,  and  there  he  would  inquire. 
The  streets  converged  toward  this  centre  of  the 
town  life,  and  soon  Rembrandt  was  in  a  large 
open  place  surrounded  by  gabled  houses,  except 
on  one  side,  where  stood  the  beautiful  hall  of 
Haarlem.  As  he  had  supposed,  the  inn  was  on  the 
opposite  side  of  the  place,  and  he  went  toward  it. 

It  was  summer-time,  and  there  were  little  tables 
in  front  of  the  inn  around  which  the  guests  were 
seated  drinking  their  wine  and  beer  and  talking 
most  noisily.  One  man  was  evidently  the  centre 
of  attraction.  He  was  surrounded  by  an  admir 
ing  crowd,  and  every  few  minutes  someone  would 
propose  his  health  and  drain  a  flagon  of  Rhine 
wine  in  his  honor.  He  was  a  very  large,  corpu 
lent  man ;  but  his  face  was  most  intellectual  and 
his  hands  delicate  and  sensitive,  clearly  the  hands 
of  an  artist.  He  had  a  full  gray  beard  and  a  flow 
ing  mustache.  His  eves  gleamed  with  merri- 
•ment,  though  they  were  very  deep  and  expres 
sive.  The  truth  is,  he  was  a  little  merrier  just 
then  than  was  well  for  him,  for  it  was  a  great  day 
for  Franz  Hals.  His  masterpiece  had  just  been 
hung  in  the  town-hall,  and  his  fellow-townsmen 
were  congratulating  him. 

Rembrandt  knew  in  a  moment  that  further  in- 
.quiry  was. needless.  This  hero  of  the  hour  could 

8 


AN  EVENING  WITH  FRANZ  HALS 

be  none  other  than  Franz  Hals  himself.  The 
young  painter  paused  for  a  moment  to  look  at 
the  most  famous  master  of  Holland.  He  saw  the 
genius  in  the  face.  He  saw  in  the  whole  scene 
that  excess  of  conviviality  which  was  the  bane  of 
Hals'  life. 

He  had  a  letter  to  Hals  from  his  master,  Swanen- 
burgh,  of  Leyden  ;  and  without  hesitation  he  went 
toward  the  group  of  revellers  and,  passing  through 
them,  placed  the  letter  in  the  hands  of  Franz  Hals. 
The  master  was  by  no  means  drunk  as  yet.  He 
was  only  very  merry.  He  read  the  letter,  and 
then  he  looked  on  the  noble  face  of  the  young 
man,  while  kindling  interest  gleamed  in  his  artist 
eye.  There  was  a  fellow-feeling  at  once.  "  This 
is  a  kindred  spirit,"  thought  Hals. 

"Welcome,  welcome  to  Haarlem,  Rembrandt! 
Waiter !  a  flagon  of  Rhenish — a  generous  one. 
Be  quick  about  it.  Sit  ye  down,  I  would  know  you 
well.  I've  heard  of  you.  Oh,  yes,  Rembrandt's 
name  has  not  stayed  behind  the  walls  of  Leyden. 
But  you  are  young  yet.  Time  before  you — time 
for  art.  Ah !  ha !  There's  the  Rhenish  !  Your 
health,  my  lad.  But  you  don't  drink,  my  boy. 
Won't  you  drain  the  glass  in  a  toast  to  art,  our 
mistress?  I  have  you  now.  I  know  you  love  her 
as  I  do.  To  art !  art !  art !  " 

"  It  is  indeed  an  honor  to  drink  to  art  with  such 
a  master.  I  will  join  you  heartily,  though,  in 
truth,  I  am  no  lover  of  wine." 

"What!  What  do  you  say?  A  painter,  an 
artist,  and  not  love  good  wine  ?  Why,  what's 
come  over  you,  man  ?  Better  mend  your  ways 


REMBRANDT 

at  once.  Wine  is  a  good  creature,  truly  a  hand 
maid  of  art.  Do  you  know  my  mandolin  player? 
No  ?  I  painted  him  after  a  goodly  feast  at  this 
very  tavern,  and  he  is  full  to  the  brim  with  mer 
riment  and  wine.  Smiling  won't  go  out  of  fash 
ion  so  long  as  they  can  see  him.  Don't  be  seri 
ous,  my  boy.  There  aren't  any  monks  in  the 
kingdom  of  art.  But  come  on,  I've  drunk  enough 
for  the  time.  I  want  to  show  you  my  Doelen  pict 
ure  in  the  hall  yonder." 

"  I  have  heard  of  the  work,"  said  Rembrandt. 
"  I  am  most  eager  to  see  it.  I  have  longed  to  see 
one  of  your  great  pictures.  We  have  no  fine  ex 
amples  at  Leyden.  We  are  poor  in  art.  That  is 
why  I  go  to  Amsterdam." 

They  walked  across  the  square  toward  the  town- 
hall,  a  beautiful  example  of  the  Dutch  renaissance. 
There  was  one  fine  gable  and  a  battlemented 
cornice  from  which  rose  the  high-pitched  roof  of 
red  tile.  Within  was  a  noble  room  with  raftered 
ceiling,  high  wainscoting,  and  windows  almost 
like  those  of  a  Gothic  church,  excepting  that  the 
subjects  chosen  for  the  stained  glass  were  not 
saints  and  martyrs,  but  coats  of  arms  and  various 
heraldic  devices.  As  they  entered  Hals  said  : 

"  See  you  the  hall,  my  lad,  the  hall  of  Haarlem  ? 
To-day  they  have  welcomed  their  painter  there 
again.  For  years  I  have  not  seen  it.  Ah  !  but  I 
must  not  speak  of  that.  In  God's  truth,  I  did  not 
mean  to  hurt  my  wife.  She  angered  me.  She 
knew  nothing  of  my  art.  I  was  angry  ;  perhaps  I 
had  drunk  too  much.  I  don't  know.  They  ban 
ished  me  when  she  died,  and  for  fourteen  years  I 


AN   EVENING  WITH   FRANZ   HALS 

have  not  seen  the  town-hall  of  Haarlem,  but  they 
had  to  have  their  painter  for  the  guild.  See  those 
banners,  there  at  the  left  ?  They  were  carried  in 
the  siege  by  those  very  men.  Look  you,  Rem 
brandt,  I  had  to  use  more  color  there  than  ever  I 
have  used  before.  Black  and  white  were  not 
enough.  The  green  and  the  red  were  needed. 
My  hand  has  not  lost  its  cunning,  but  I  am  getting 
old.  Still  it  is  there,  it  is  there  !  Tell  me,  are  not 
those  the  burgher  warriors  who  fought  on  the 
Haarlem  walls?  They  are  feasting  now,  but  they 
fought  better  than  they  feasted.  Tell  me,  is  not 
the  spirit  there  ?" 

Rembrandt  looked  in  wonder  upon  the  picture. 
It  was  indeed  true  that  the  spirit  of  the  burgher 
warriors  was  there,  and  there  was  a  splendor  of 
color  that  none  had  seen  before  in  the  work  of 
Franz  Hals.  He  had  been  in  exuberant  spirits 
and  had  frolicked  with  his  brush,  perhaps  because 
of  joy  at  the  home-coming  after  the  long  exile. 

Rembrandt  thought,  "  Why  not  stay  here  and 
study  with  this  man  ?  Surely  1  can  find  no  greater 
master.  But  no,  I  cannot  trust  him.  Who  can 
tell  how  soon  he  may  commit  some  other  crime 
in  his  cups?" 

Aloud  he  said  :  "  Master,  the  picture  is  great. 
1  wonder  not  that  the  guild  is  paying  you  all 
honor  to-day.  No  other  painter  has  thus  given  the 
very  life  and  spirit  of  those  who  fought  for  the 
fatherland." 

"  Think  you  so  indeed  ?  I'm  glad.  Yet  I  know 
there  is  something  lacking.  Someone  will  paint 
a  better  Doelen  picture.  Perhaps  you  may.  Who 


REMBRANDT 

knows'?  But  come  on,  come  home  with  me.  You 
will  not  leave  till  morning.  Come.  We'll  dine 
together,  and  the  wife  and  children  will  give  you 
good  cheer." 

The  two  painters  left  the  hall  as  the  light  began 
to  fail,  and  went  toward  Hals'  home. 

"  Rembrandt,  I  wish  I  knew  what  the  trouble 
is?  Why  is  it  not  complete?  They  all  praise  it. 
It  is  good,  I  know  it  is  good  ;  but  it  is  not  what  it 
ought  to  be.  Now  what  is  the  reason?  Perhaps 
there  is  not  enough  color,  or  is  the  composition 
wrong?  Tell  me  what  you  think." 

"  Why  should  you  ask  me,  master  that  you  are  ? 
Is  there  a  trouble?  Then  surely  you  must  under 
stand  better  than  I.  1  have  been  thinking  that  it 
might  be  better  to  stay  here  in  Haarlem  and  study 
with  you,  for  who  in  Amsterdam  could  have  paint 
ed  that  picture  that  I  have  just  seen?  There  is 
no  one  who  could  do  it  save  yourself,  and  yet 
you  are  not  at  rest  about  it.  How  almost  infinite 
are  art's  possibilities!  There  is  always  unrest  for 
the  artist,  always  the  highest  that  eludes  him." 

"  Yes,  yes,  I  know  that  is  true  ;  but  come,  come, 
come,  the  dinner  will  be  cold.  It  is  getting  late 
and  I  am  hungry  and  I  am  thirsty ;  but  that  is  not 
strange,  I  am  always  athirst.  Let  us  go  quickly." 

They  walked  on  by  the  bank  of  the  canal  that 
was  the  city's  central  highway,  and  after  a  little 
while  they  turned  into  a  narrow  street  which  led 
to  the  home  of  Franz  Hals.  It  was  strange  that 
the  personal  power  of  Rembrandt  should  have  so 
affected  Hals  in  this  first  meeting.  Hals  was  much 
the  older  man,  and  his  fame  was  already  achieved 


AN  EVENING  WITH   FRANZ   HALS 

as  a  painter.  He  did  not  know  then  that  the  art 
of  his  later  years  was  to  be  inspired  by  the  work 
of  this  poor,  haughty,  but  very  young  man,  only 
twenty-five  years  old,  going  to  Amsterdam  that 
he  might  live  in  an  atmosphere  of  art.  They 
came  to  the  door.  Hals  lifted  the  great  iron 
knocker,  and  rapped  again  and  again.  Pattering 
footsteps  were  heard  on  the  stairs,  and  the  chil 
dren  crowded  each  other  in  their  eagerness  to 
open  the  door  for  father.  The  mother  stood  at  the 
top  of  the  stairs.  When  the  door  was  opened  she 
said,  "  Is  that  you,  Franz?  I  should  think  it  was 
time.  Drinking  again  at  the  tavern,  I  suppose. 
Always  the  same.  What  ails  you,  man  ;  have  you 
no  decency  ?  How  long  do  you  think  we  have 
been  waiting?" 

"  Nay,  nay,  wife,  do  not  chide  me.  I  have  met 
a  brother  in  art.  Rembrandt,  you  know." 

"  No,  I  don't  know  and  I  don't  want  to  know. 
I  suppose  he  is  another  roisterer  like  yourself, 
for  art  leads  to  drinking,  and  worse  things,  too." 

"Peace,  wife,  peace  in  God's  name!  Rem 
brandt  is  here.  Give  him  welcome.  He  will  bide 
here  for  the  night." 

"Ah!  well,  let  him  come,  then." 

"  But,  wife,  he  is  here  with  me.  Rembrandt, 
come;  my  wife  and  my  children  will  greet  you." 

The  young  painter  had  well-nigh  fled,  for  the 
door  was  still  half-open,  and  there  seemed  little 
hope  that  the  evening  would  be  a  pleasant  one. 
But  at  Hals'  word  he  came  forward  shyly,  and  still 
with  the  haughtiness  of  bearing  that  was  natural 
to  him. 

13 


REMBRANDT 

"  Hiskia,  this  is  Rembrandt,  of  Leyden.  He 
goes  to  Amsterdam  to  practise  his  art,  but  to-night 
he  stays  with  us." 

"  My  frow,  I  am  proud  to  meet  the  lady  of  the 
greatest  of  Holland's  masters.  I  thank  you  both 
for  your  kind  welcome."  The  grave  dignity  of 
the  young  painter  produced  instant  impression  on 
Hals'  wife. 

"  Ah  !  well,  ah  !  well !  You  said  but  now  that 
dinner  was  waiting.  We  are  ready.  Come  all, 
let  us  not  tarry.  Surely  we  are  nothing  loath  to 
be  refreshed  with  your  good  cheer,  wife." 

They  went  to  the  dining-room,  the  hungry 
children  crowding  eagerly  behind  them.  It  was 
truly  late  for  the  Dutch  dinner,  usually  taken  at 
half-past  four  or  five.  It  was  no  wonder  the  wife 
was  out  of  temper  and  the  children  half-famished, 
but  such  happenings  were  not  uncommon  in  the 
household  of  Franz  Hals.  Usually  it  was  the 
loitering  in  the  tavern  that  caused  them,  but  this 
time  the  shrewish  woman  knew  that  something 
unusual  had  happened.  She  knew  of  the  exhibi 
tion  of  her  husband's  masterpiece,  though  she 
cared  nothing  for  the  picture,  and  she  felt  at  once 
in  the  presence  of  the  stranger  an  influence  that 
stirred  her  to  her  depths.  Therefore  she  sought 
to  quench  the  fires  of  her  wrath,  and  in  a  little 
while  only  smouldering  embers  remained,  though 
there  was  still  danger  of  flame  in  them. 

The  home  of  Hals  was  filled  with  beautiful  fur 
niture,  and  the  glasses  and  silver  of  his  table  were 
exquisite.  It  was  a  wonder  that  he  could  afford 
to  buy  such  things ;  and  the  truth  was,  he  had  not 

14 


AN  EVENING  WITH  FRANZ  HALS 

paid  for  them  and  never  did.  However,  he  en 
joyed  them,  without  caring  about  whether  they 
were  paid  for  or  not. 

This  was  a  strange  contrast  to  the  simplicity  of 
the  Leyden  mill.  It  was  Rembrandt's  first  sight 
of  the  luxury  and  splendor  that  were  about  the 
great  Dutchmen  of  the  time,  and  it  made  a  deep 
and  lasting  impression  upon  him. 

"  Hiskia,  bring  some  of  that  wine  of  Bourgogne 
that  I  had  of  the  Frenchman  ;  and  Franz,  my  son, 
fetch  the  big  silver  tankards  from  the  chimney- 
piece  yonder." 

"  Nay,  Franz,  surely  thou  didst  have  enough  at 
the  tavern." 

Said  Rembrandt,  "  I  crave  not  the  wine  ;  I  be 
seech  you,  bring  it  not  forth  for  me." 

"  Nay,  but  I  will,  I  will.  What  say  you,  a 
brother  artist  here  and  I  not  pledge  him  in  my 
best  ?  The  tavern,  say  you  ?  There  was  naught 
there  only  a  few  toasts  to  my  picture — naught, 
naught,  I  say  !  Bring  me  the  Bourgogne.  I  will 
have  it.  Franz,  be  quick  with  the  tankards." 

"Ah!  well,  ah  !  well,"  thought  the  wife,  "this 
will  be  a  bad  time  for  me  ;  "  but  she  said  nothing 
aloud.  Rembrandt's  presence  had  stilled  her 
noisy  tongue.  It  was  strange,  the  effect  of  that 
deep,  dark  face,  those  searching  eyes  ;  and  yet  now 
there  was  an  eager  light  in  them,  for  Rembrandt 
was  kindled  to  an  artistic  glow  by  the  thought  that 
now  the  master  would  talk.  Now  he  would  learn 
some  secret  of  the  art  he  loved.  If  wine  were 
needed  to  make  him  talk,  let  him  have  wine.  The 
young  man  wanted  none  himself;  but  he  was  alert, 

15 


REMBRANDT 

excited,  watching  with  impatience  for  the  word  of 
the  great  painter.  Surely  he  would  talk  about 
art.  And  he  did.  The  generous  wine  was  brought. 
The  great  silver  tankards  were  filled.  Franz  Hals 
drank  deep,  and  Rembrandt  feigned  to  drink,  and 
then  the  talk  began. 

"  So  you  go  to  Amsterdam  for  art's  sake,  be 
cause  there  are  too  many  doctors  of  theology  in 
Leyden  ?  You  are  going  to  follow  the  Italians? 
There  are  many  of  them  there.  Bah  !  the  slaves  ! 
They  are  copyists,  naught  else  !  Why  it  seems 
as  if  a  Dutchman  had  no  respect  for  himself,  and 
as  soon  as  he  wants  to  be  a  painter  off  he  goes  to 
Italy." 

"  Yes,  I  know,"  said  Rembrandt.  "  Lastman 
did  that.  He  stayed  there  long,  and  he  paints 
well  in  the  Italian  manner.  But  I  do  not  like  it. 
That  is  why  I  left  Leyden.  That  is  why  I  came 
to  you  here  at  Haarlem.  Is  there  nothing  but 
imitation  left  to  us?  Surely  the  Dutch  are  ex 
plorers  in  the  seas  of  the  North  and  the  South  ; 
why  not  in  art  ?  Tell  me,  Franz  Hals,  tell  me,  1 
say,  what  is  the  secret  of  your  art  ?  Can  you 
give  it  to  me  ?  May  I  study  with  you  ?  " 

"Tell  you  my  secrets !  Ha!  Ha!  What's  a 
poor  fellow  going  to  live  on  then  ?  But  you  know 
black  and  white,  Rembrandt,  black  and  white. 
Ah!  the  possibilities  of  black  and  white!  What 
need  of  color?  But,  yes,  I  had  to  use  it  with  the 
banners  in  the  Doelen  picture.  My  secrets  !  Oh  ! 
well,  black  and  white,  and  again  black  and  white ! 
But  the  brush  work — the  secret  of  it.  Did  you 
ever  think,  my  boy,  what  the  stroke  of  the  brush 

16 


AN  EVENING  WITH  FRANZ  HALS 

means  ?  Look  at-the  cheek  of  my  mandolin  player. 
It  was  only  one  stroke,  just  one,  but  it  stays  there. 
It  lives!  I  know  it!  But  teach  it  to  another  !  I 
can't.  I'm  no  teacher.  I  wish  I  could  master 
myself,  but  I  can't.  Another  glass,  my  boy,  an 
other  glass  !  Who  knows,  perhaps  someone  will 
bring  the  full  color  into  the  brush  sweep;  but 
Rembrandt,  my  friend,  I  really  don't  think  any 
one  in  Amsterdam  can  teach  you  that.  No,  I 
don't.  No,  I  don't.  Some  more  of  the  Bour- 
gogne !  Your  health  again  !  " 

"  Franz,  Franz,  drink  no  more,  for  God's  sake  ! 
You've  been  drinking  all  day,  Franz  ;  for  the  sake 
of  our  love  touch  no  more."  So  said  the  wife. 

"  What  have  you  to  do  about  it,  I'd  like  to  know  ; 
get  out  of  here.  Where  would  you  have  been  if 
I  hadn't  married  you  ?  On  the  streets." 

"  Do  you  taunt  me  with  my  shame  ?  " 

"  I  don't  care  about  your  shame,  as  you  call  it. 
It  was  your  own  fault  as  much  as  mine,  and  I 
saved  your  name  by  marrying  you.  Get  out  of 
here.  I  won't  have  you  here  with  your  scolding. 
Why  should  I  not  pledge  my  friend  in  another 
glass?  I  will!  I  will!  If  you  don't  go,  I'll  throw 
this  tankard  at  your  head." 

He  seized  the  great  silver  cup  in  his  hand  as  in 
act  to  throw  it,  but  the  frightened  woman  fled, 
and  the  children  had  long  since  skulked  away, 
except  one  who  had  hidden  under  the  table ;  but 
now  he,  too,  crawled  out,  and  with  a  shriek  of 
terror  gained  the  still  open  door  through  which 
his  mother  had  gone. 

"  A  glass,  a  glass,  Rembrandt!  There  is  plenty 
17 


REMBRANDT 

of  the  Bourgogne !  Drink!  drink  to  art!  to  art! 
Ah,  where  is  the  woman?  Gone?  Why  did  I 
kill  the  other  one  ?  What  demon  is  in  me  ?  Rem 
brandt,  art,  art  the  mistress  !  Oh!  the  mistress! 
Where  is  she?  What  do  I  see?  Her  form  there  ! 
Ah  !  that  was  the  first  one  !  She  is  dead  !  dead  ! 
dead !  and  they  banished  me  for  it.  Why  does 
she  grin  like  that?  Is  she  laughing  in  death? 
Out  on  it !  What  is  it,  Rembrandt  ?  Do  you  see 
her  there  on  the  floor — there  by  your  feet  ?  Ah  ! 
Ah  !  there  !  Oh,  horror  !  I  fear  I  shall  see  her  for 
ever." 

Hals  put  his  hands  before  his  eyes  and  started 
up  in  mortal  terror,  overturning  the  flagon  and 
the  tankards  on  the  table.  Then  he  fell  back  on 
his  chair,  muttering  incoherent  words.  But  now 
he  became  more  quiet,  yielding  to  the  stupor  of 
the  wine. 

"  I  cannot  stay  here  to-night,"  thought  Rem 
brandt,  "  but  I  cannot  leave  him  thus.  I  will  call 
the  servant  and  the  wife.  They  must  care  for 
him."  He  opened  the  door  which  the  frightened 
child  had  closed.  There  on  the  very  threshold 
was  the  wife,  cowering  and  trembling.  "  I  knew 
it  would  be  like  that,"  she  said.  "  I  have  seen 
him  that  way  before,  but  not  often.  Oh  !  I  beg 
you  believe  me,  not  often.  Shame  !  shame  !  that 
you  should  have  been  here  to-night.  What  must 
you  think  of  him  ?  And  yet  he  will  paint  again 
in  a  little  while  as  only  such  a  master  can.  Think 
not  too  hardly  of  him.  We  will  care  for  him 
here  ;  trouble  not  yourself." 

"  My  frow,  I  am  sorry  ;  my  heart  is  sore  for  you, 
is 


AN  EVENING  WITH  FRANZ   HALS 

but  I  see  that  I  cannot  help  ;  I  will  go.  There  is 
a  bed  for  me  on  the  boat  which  brought  me  here 
on  the  canal.  I  know  where  to  find  it.  It  is  better 
that  I  should  stay  no  longer.  I  thank  you  for 
your  kindness  to  me." 

So  Rembrandt  left  the  home  of  Hals,  and  went 
out  in  the  night  to  seek  in  the  strange  city  the 
place  where  Peter  had  said  he  would  moor  the 
barge.  He  had  no  fear  about  not  finding  it,  for 
the  narrow  streets  all  converged  toward  the  cen 
tral  highway  of  the  canal.  It  was  bright  moon 
light,  and  the  gables  were  silvered  by  the  pure 
white  beams.  All  was  calm.  Long  since  the 
simple  Dutchmen  had  sought  their  rest.  He  was 
too  far  from  the  walls  to  hear  the  pacing  of  the 
sentries  there,  who  now  kept  watch  again  since 
the  truce  with  Spain  had  expired.  The  young 
man  was  stirred,  touched  to  the  very  depths  of 
his  nature.  "  Alas !  alas !  the  great  man,  the 
master  painter !  Can  genius  thus  degrade  itself  ? 
What  need  to  think  of  anything  but  art?  But  of 
Hals !  What  didst  thou  do  ?  Thy  first  wife  killed 
by  thee,  thou  saidst!  Can  such  things  be,  or  was 
it  mere  raving?  Nay,  he  said  he  was  banished, 
and  for  that  cause.  My  God  !  I  never  shall  for 
get  this  day,  and  I  had  thought  to  study  with 
him  !  There  is  no  greater  painter,  but  such  as  he 
is  no  fit  teacher.  It  is  a  wonder  that  he  can  paint 
at  all.  I  will  take  warning  by  him,  but  1  will 
hasten  to  Amsterdam.  Surely,  there  I  shall  live 
among  artists  great  and  not  degraded." 

Though  so  intent  upon  his  thoughts  Rembrandt 
did  not  lose  his  way.  He  soon  came  to  the  broad 

IQ 


REMBRANDT 

canal,  and  then  he  wandered  up  and  down  its 
banks  until  at  last  he  found  Peter's  barge.  The 
worthy  Dutchman  was  aroused  after  some  trouble. 

"  Eh,  eh,  master  !  but  you  said  you  would  not 
come  till  morn.  What  happened  ye  ?  " 

"  Never  mind,  Peter  ;  I  could  not  stay  with  my 
painter  friendo  He  was  not  well.  Let  me  in,  for 
I  would  fain  sleep."  But  there  was  little  sleep 
for  Rembrandt  that  night.  The  interview  with 
Hals  had  so  greatly  excited  him  that  sleep  would 
not  come  as  he  lay  for  hours  thinking  of  that 
strange  scene. 


20 


CHAPTER   III 

The  Meeting  with  Albreclit  von  Stoltzing 

THE  next  morning  at  dawn  the  barge  started 
again  on  the  slow  way.  Rembrandt  was 
impatient  and  feverish,  thinking  always  of  the 
tragedy  of  Franz  Hals'  life,  except  when  he  was 
thinking  of  his  own  art.  Soon  the  thought  of 
that  blotted  out  all  else.  Ah  !  here  was  a  beauti 
ful  subject  for  an  etching  !  He  had  not  his  tools 
with  him,  but  he  would  sketch  it  and  afterward 
etch  it.  The  long,  level  lines,  the  clumps  of  trees, 
the  gathering  clouds,  were  quickly  put  down  with 
a  sure  and  living  touch.  "  Now  I  will  walk  again," 
he  thought.  "  It  is  better  than  the  slow  drifting 
of  the  barge." 

He  found,  as  before,  the  same  narrow  road,  the 
same  pollard  trees,  the  same  ditches,  the  same 
solitude.  No,  it  was  not  so  !  There  was  some 
one  walking  just  before  him,  certainly  a  stranger, 
for  his  garb  was  not  like  that  of  the  Dutch.  Who 
could  it  be  ?  It  was  unusual  in  those  days  to  see 
foreigners  walking  on  the  Dutch  roads  alone. 
Surely  the  stranger  must  have  been  moved  by 
some  strong  impulse  to  come  thus  into  the  midst 
of  Holland  while  the  wars  all  about  were  so  fierce, 
and  nowhere  was  the  life  of  a  foreigner  safe.  This 
man  looked  like  a  German,  if  one  could  judge  from 


REMBRANDT 

his  dress.  He  looked,  too,  somewhat  like  an  artist. 
He  wore  a  broad,  flat  cap,  such  as  Rembrandt 
himself  had  often  worn,  and  he  also  had  a  long 
cloak  that  enveloped  him  almost  completely.  For 
some  reason  that  he  never  afterward  could  ex 
plain,  the  thought  of  Albrecht  Diirer  flashed  into 
Rembrandt's  mind.  He  quickened  his  pace  and 
soon  overtook  the  stranger,  who  was  walking  lei 
surely,  apparently  absorbed  in  thought. 

"  May  I  join  you  ?  One  does  not  find  so  many 
companions  on  these  lonely  roads,  especially  in 
these  troublous  times.  How  came  you  here  and 
whither  are  you  bound,  for  it  is  dangerous  for 
those  not  of  our  race  to  be  alone  here  so  near 
Amsterdam  to-day?" 

The  young  man  turned  and  said:  "I  see  not 
the  danger.  I  am  a  peaceful  man.  The  wars  are 
naught  to  me.  I  go  to  Amsterdam  to  find  a  mart 
for  some  prints  I  have,  the  best  of  them  by  the 
immortal  Albrecht  Diirer." 

"Prints,  you  say!  prints  by  Diirer!  Let  me 
see  them  !  " 

"  Nay,  I  have  them  not  with  me.  They  are  in 
my  mails  on  the  barge.  They  will  come  later. 
But,  pray,  who  are  you  that  takes  so  quick  an  in 
terest  in  art  work  ?  " 

"I!  I!  Only  one  who  is  studying  painting 
and  cares  for  naught  else.  My  name  is  Rem 
brandt — Rembrandt  Harmenz  van  Rhyn — and 
your's?" 

"  I  am  Albrecht  von  Stoltzing,  and  I  come  from 
Nuremberg." 

•"  You  come  from  Nuremberg,  the  home  of  art! 


ALBRECHT  VON  STOLTZING 

I  have  heard  that  everything  there  is  artistic,  yet 
I  know  not  the  place  save  from  words  of  others. 
Why  did  you  leave  such  a  place  to  come  to  this 
dreary  Holland,  with  its  fog  and  wet  and  winds, 
clouds  and  flat  lands?  What  can  a  man  find  to 
paint  here  ?  " 

"  Nay,  but  I  came  not  to  paint.  In  sooth,  as 
you  say,  there  is  a  dreariness  in  this  land  even 
though  there  is  bright  sunlight  to-day.  I  begin 
to  wonder  at  what  I  have  heard  about  the  great 
painters  being  in  Amsterdam.  But  I  am  sure  they 
are  there,  and  I  know  there  is  a  man  who  has  only 
a  little  while  ago  opened  a  shop  there  for  the  sale 
of  prints  and  etchings  and  engravings,  perhaps 
pictures  too.  It  is  a  famous  name — the  nephew 
of  Hombertus,  of  Friesland,  who  went  to  England 
as  envoy  to  Queen  Elizabeth,  the  friend  of  Will 
iam  the  Silent,  your  great  prince.  Hendrik  von 
Ulenburg  is  his  name." 

"  Oh,  yes,"  said  Rembrandt,  "I  know  him  well. 
He  is  a  noble  man." 

"  I  go  to  seek  him,"  said  Albrecht,  "and  sell,  if 
I  can,  some  of  the  prints  which  I  had  from  the 
very  home  of  Diirer  himself.  You  are  all  so  rich 
in  Holland,  as  men  say,  that  it  seems  the  best 
market ;  and  I  know,  too,  that  you  love  art.  But 
is  there  really  danger  here?  I  had  not  thought 
of  it.  You  had  the  truce." 

"  Yes,  but  that  was  only  for  fifteen  years.  It 
has  expired  long  since,  and  no  man  can  tell  when 
the  Spaniard  will  be  on  us  again." 

"  True,  true,  I  had  forgotten  it." 

"  Where  shall  you  dwell  in  Amsterdam,  Herr 
23 


REMBRANDT 

Albrecht  ?  "  said    Rembrandt.     "  Know  you   the 
town  ?  " 

"  Nay,  Mynheer  Rembrandt,  I  was  never  there ; 
but  I  trust  to  find,  through  Hendrik  the  print- 
seller,  a  lodging-place." 

"  That's  well.  It  might  be  best  for  me  to  ask 
his  advice,  though  I  have  often  been  there  before. 
I  have  some  letters  from  Leyden  masters  to  some 
painters  there,  but  I  know  not  just  where  I  shall 
lodge.  I  mean  to  have  a  studio  somewhere.  I 
think  Hendrik  will  tell  me  where  to  find  one. 
I  have  a  letter  to  one  Jan  Six,  who  is  said  to  be 
well  known  there.  Know  you  him  ?  " 

"  Nay,  I  know  none  in  the  place.  My  Diirer 
prints  will  be  my  password  among  artists.  That 
I  know.  I  fear  nothing,  for  in  that  place  of  art 
and  wealth  there  can  no  harm  come  to  one  who 
has  such  treasures." 

"  See  to  it  they  be  not  stolen  ;  but,  ah — ha!  ha  ! 
ha! — they  are  on  a  barge — a  canal  barge.  A  cap 
tain  such  as  mine  I  suppose,  and  with  such  a  wife  ! 
Ha!  ha!  why  such  people  would  not  know  a 
Diirer  from  a  donkey ;  and  the  Diirers  would  be 
hidden  among  the  cabbages  and  carrots,  behind 
the  pigs  and  the  calves.  Oh  !  oh  !  oh  !  you  need 
not  concern  yourself.  Your  art  treasures  are 
safe  hidden  there.  I  wish  you  had  seen  me 
painting  the  captain's  wife  the  other  day — the 
captain  of  my  barge,  I  mean  !  Oh,  somebody 
ought  to  write  about  it.  She  was  like  an  in 
sulted  fury  because  I  painted  her.  Oh  !  yes, 
your  Diirers  are  safe  enough.  But  where  did 
you  leave  your  boat  ? " 

24 


ALBRECHT  VON  STOLTZING 

"At  Haarlem,  just  as  you  did.  The  boat  will 
come  in  by  the  Bennen  Amstet,  and  I  am  to  find 
it  at  the  Dam." 

"The  same  with  me.  We  will  go  on  together, 
friend.  I  meant  to  pass  the  night  with  Hals,  at 
Haarlem." 

"With  Hals,  that  great  man?  We  know  him 
at  Nuremberg.  Why  stayed  you  not  with  him  ?" 

"Alas!  alas!  It  is  a  pity  to  tell.  He  had 
been  carousing  and  had  gone  too  far.  His  wife 
was  shamed  and  in  tears.  I  could  not  stay." 

Engaged  in  this  pleasant  converse  the  two 
walked  on,  sometimes  in  the  shade  of  the  pollard 
willows,  sometimes  in  the  open  among  the  broad 
level  meadows  where  the  kine  were  grazing, 
sometimes  on  a  dyke  by  a  riverside  where  were 
many  windmills  with  their  ceaseless  whirl  of  busy 
sails.  The  scene  was  new  to  the  young  German, 
though  familiar  enough  to  Rembrandt.  The  son 
of  the  Leyden  miller  told  Albrecht  of  the  mills 
and  the  life  of  the  millers,  and  how  closely  they 
were  connected  with  the  very  existence  of  the 
Dutch.  It  was  interesting  and  quite  new  to  this 
stranger  among  the  Dutch.  His  face  lightened 
with  the  flash  of  intellectual  appreciation.  His 
great  blue  eyes  shone  brightly.  He  was  no  lon 
ger  the  dreamer,  but  the  alert  and  keen  thinker. 

"  He  is  like  Diirer  himself,"  thought  Rem 
brandt.  It  was  partly  true,  although  Albrecht 
von  Stoltzing  had  not  the  majesty  of  presence 
that  characterized  the  great  artist  of  Nuremberg. 
He  was  of  middle  height,  but  strongly  built  and 
well-proportioned.  He  had  the  same  long  curls 

25 


REMBRANDT 

falling'  on  his  shoulders,  so  well-known  in  the 
portraits  of  Diirer.  They  were  the  blonde  curls 
of  the  Vikings  of  Northland — such  curls  as  the 
great  among  the  Saxons  and  their  kin  have  often 
had.  The  brow  was  noble,  pure  and  white,  and 
full  of  thoughtfulness.  The  mouth  was  mobile 
and  sensitive,  but  partly  hidden  by  the  mustache 
and  beard,  which  were  full  and  silky  and  seemed 
never  to  have  known  a  razor's  touch. 

There  was  something  of  the  aboriginal  man 
about  Albrecht,  cultivated  as  he  was  in  many 
ways.  He  was  ignorant  of  convention  and  cared 
not  for  rules  of  any  kind.  Yet  he  was  not  re 
bellious  against  law.  He  would  obey  and  gladly. 
It  was  easier.  But  he  did  not  care  to  think  about 
such  things.  He  had  two  passions,  art  and  poetry, 
and  yet  he  was  neither  an  artist  nor  a  poet.  In 
spite  of  his  Viking  look,  he  was  a  man  of  action 
only  in  an  emergency.  He  would  fight  like  a 
lion  if  roused,  but  he  hated  to  be  roused.  Never 
theless,  he  had  not  been  afraid  to  come  alone  to 
Holland  in  these  stormy  times,  and  here  he  was 
with  Rembrandt  nearing  the  Dutch  capital  in  the 
year  1631. 

"  So  we  are  brothers  in  art,"  said  Albrecht. 
"  But  I  am  only  a  lover  of  it,  and  deal  in  the 
works  of  others.  You  are  already  a  creator.  I 
have  heard  of  your  works.  Why,  you  are  al 
ready  famous." 

"  Nay,  nay,  I  have  had  but  a  boy's  success.  I 
was  but  fourteen  years  old  when  I  quitted  Last- 
man's  studio.  I  have  not  begun.  I  would  gladly 
forget  my  past  work,  but  I  am  sure  I  could  do 

26 


ALBRECHT  VON  STOLTZING 

no  better  in  Leyden.  One  must  be  with  great 
painters  if  he  is  to  do  great  work.  I  am  stifled 
by  the  learned  doctors  of  the  University.  What 
have  their  syllogisms  and  their  theologies  to  do 
with  my  painting  ?  Nothing  at  all.  I  verily  be 
lieve  they  think  painting  is  an  invention  of  the 
enemy." 

"  Rembrandt,  I  believe  you  are  a  master  now. 
I  want  to  be  with  you  in  Amsterdam.  Are  you 
alone?  But  I  know  you  must  be,  or  you  would 
have  spoken  of  the  wife." 

"  Wife  !  wife  !  of  what  are  you  talking  ?  I  have 
had  no  time  to  think  about  a  wife,  and  I  have  had 
no  money  to  support  one.  I  believe  I  don't  want 
one.  I  would  rather  have  art  for  my  mistress 
and  live  alone — except  for  her  sweet  companion 
ship." 

"  Ha !  ha !  I  don't  believe  a  word  you  say.  You'll 
have  a  wife  soon  enough,  and  you'll  love  her  as  a 
woman  should  be  loved.  It  is  written  in  your 
face.  If  ever  there  is  a  true  lover  born,  it  is  you. 
I  can  read  character.  Some  of  the  old  Norse 
blood  is  in  me,  and  there  were  seers  and  dreamers 
of  dreams  among  us.  As  for  me,  I  want  my  love. 
I  dream  of  my  lady  always,  but  she  has  not  come 
yet.  Perhaps  I  may  find  her  in  your  great  city 
here  before  us.  I  think  I  could  love  one  of  your 
plain  Dutch  women,  who  make  the  house  peace 
ful,  yet  rule  it  well.  Such  an  one  would  let  me 
dream  my  dreams,  and  yet  would  spur  me  on  to 
do  my  work,  such  as  it  is.  Yes,  I  believe  I'll 
marry  a  Dutch  girl.  It  would  be  good  for  me, 
and  I  should  be  happy." 

27 


REMBRANDT 

The  young  men  were  now  nearing  the  city. 
The  spires  of  the  churches  were  first  seen.  Then 
the  three  towers  of  St.  Anthony's  Gate,  after 
ward  the  Mint.  The  gabled  houses  clustered 
about  them,  and  soon  appeared  the  frowning  bar 
rier  of  the  walls — many  bastioned  and  irregular  in 
shape — protecting  the  river  and  canals,  the  arteries 
of  the  city's  life-blood,  and  protecting,  too,  the 
homes  and  halls  of  the  burghers,  the  soldiers,  the 
artists,  and  the  thrifty  Dutchmen  whose  wealth 
was  growing  to  such  vast  proportions.  It  was  a 
time  of  war.  Men  were  killing  each  other  all 
over  Europe  in  the  name  of  religion  through  that 
fearful  strife  of  thirty  years,  that  was  not  to  end 
for  a  long  seventeen  years.  Nevertheless,  the 
canals  and  the  rivers  were  fairly  burdened  with 
rich  cargoes  from  the  East.  The  wealth  of  the 
Indies  \vas  pouring  into  Amsterdam.  There  were 
great  ships  of  war  also,  bristling  with  guns,  lar 
ger  now  than  those  that  Heemskerk  fought  with 
when  he  immortalized  the  life  he  lost  at  Gibral 
tar;  but  they  were  built  on  the  same  model,  very 
broad  in  the  beam,  with  high  poop  and  prow,  and 
not  so  large  as  to  be  difficult  of  handling.  They 
were  noble  ships ;  and  Rembrandt's  heart  throbbed 
with  pride  as  he  saw  them  there  ready  for  instant 
action,  and  remembered  that  but  for  them,  and 
those  that  had  gone  before  them,  those  Indian 
merchantmen  would  not  now  be  furling  their 
sails  by  the  wharves  of  Amsterdam,  and  unload- 
ing  those  treasures  that  filled  the  coffers  of  the 
merchants  and  made  them  able  to  buy  the  pict 
ures  and  all  the  other  works  of  art  that  they  loved. 

28 


ALBRECHT  VON   STOLTZING 

It  was  an  impressive  sight,  familiar  to  Rem 
brandt,  but  quite  strange  to  Albrecht,  who  won 
dered  much  at  the  picturesqueness  and  the 
evident  opulence,  which  seemed  almost  fabulous. 

They  came  at  last  to  the  gate  called  the  Kaer- 
lemmer  Port.  It  was  strongly  fortified  with  bast 
ions  and  towers,  as  were  all  the  other  gates  of 
Amsterdam  at  this  time.  A  large  company  of 
armed  men  was  stationed  there,  for  it  was  one 
of  the  principal  entrances  to  the  city.  After  some 
little  parleying  and  examination  of  credentials, 
the  young  men  were  admitted. 


CHAPTER   IV 

Finding  the  Barges 

"  A  LBRECHT,"  said  Rembrandt,  "  now  that 
JL\.  we  have  passed  the  gate  it  would  be  well,  I 
think,  to  find  the  barges  and  get  our  mails  ere  we 
go  to  Hendrik's  place.  What  think  you?" 

"  Indeed,  yes,  if  the  bargemen  are  now  come  ; 
but  they  are  so  slow.  I  think  they  must  be  dream 
ers,  like  me.  What  else  could  they  do  but  dream 
on  a  Dutch  canal,  unless  when  they  wake  up  to 
take  in  the  pigs  and  calves  and  the  peasants  and 
the  vegetables?  Even  that  effort  is  not  very  ex 
citing.  They  might  dream  again  and  not  get  to 
Amsterdam  at  all.  But,  well,  we'll  seek  them. 
They  were  to  be  on  the  Dam,  was  it  not?" 

"  Yes,  yes,"  said  Rembrandt,  impatiently,  "  of 
course.  That  is  the  central  place.  The  barges 
all  go  there,  or  as  near  as  they  can  get  to  it. 
Sometimes  the  canal  is  so  crowded  that  it  takes  a 
good  while  to  get  to  the  Dam." 

"  Rembrandt,  tell  me,  what  is  the  Dam  ?  Is 
there  a  mill-pond  there  ?  I  don't  know  about  k." 

"  Oh,  the  Dam  is  simply  a  name  that  comes 
from  ages  ago.  They  did  dam  the  river  there  in 
the  earliest  days  of  the  Counts  of  Holland,  and 
afterward  they  built  a  castle  there,  and  the  begin 
ning  of  Amsterdam  was  at  the  place.  Now  it  is 


FINDING  THE  BARGES 

the  very  centre  of  the  city.  But,  come,  let  us 
seek  the  bargemen." 

It  was  a  long  walk  even  in  those  days  from  the 
gate  by  which  they  had  entered  to  the  Dam,  but 
at  last  the  young  men  came  there  and  began  to 
search  among  the  multitude  of  boats  for  those  on 
which  they  had  embarked.  It  was  no  easy  task. 
There  was  a  perfect  babel  of  voices,  every  barge 
man  crying  to  every  other,  each  telling  where  he 
had  a  right  to  moor  and  threatening  all  in  his 
way  with  condemnation  to  the  lowest  depths  if 
they  would  not  give  place.  The  language  was 
most  forcible,  and  showed  clearly  enough  that  the 
Dutchman  was  not  always  asleep  or  dreaming.  He 
was  certainly  a  master  of  expletives,  and  willing 
to  assert  his  rights  by  word  and  equally  by  deed. 

The  young  men  went  up  and  down  without  suc 
cess  for  awhile.  At  last  Rembrandt  burst  into 
a  fit  of  laughter. 

"Ha!  ha!  ha!  I  have  found  mine.  Oh!  oh! 
There  is  it  yonder.  Ah!  ah!  ah  !"  and  he  laughed 
till  he  groaned. 

"  What  is  the  matter  with  you,  man  ?  "  said  Al- 
brecht.  "  How  know  you  which  is  your  boat?" 

"  Look  you.  See  you  yon  sturdy  captain  'and 
his  wife — there  on  the  boat  already  moored  ?" 

"  Yes,  I  see  ;  what  are  they  doing?  " 

"  Don't  you  see?  They  are  looking  at  each  other 
and  then  at  two  pictures,  see  you;  each  has  one  of 
the  pictures.  Ha  !  ha  !  ha  !  Albrecht,  those  are 
sketches  that  I  made  of  each  of  them,  just  after  I 
left  Leyden.  Let  us  come  near  and  hear  what 
they  are  saying." 

31 


REMBRANDT 

The  young  men  approached  the  boat.  There 
were  some  bales  of  merchandise  on  the  quay, 
and  concealed  behind  these  they  heard  the 
worthy  Peter  and  his  beloved  Geertje  as  they 
talked. 

"  Who'd  have  thought  it  now,  wife ;  I'm  main 
fond  of  you,  I  am.  Ye  know  it,  woman ;  but  1 
never  knew  ye  was  so  fine.  Why,  my  frow,  ye're 
going  to  live  for  your  beauty.  Ye'll  never  be 
forgot." 

"Ay  !  ay  !  but,  Peter,  man,  what  did  the  miller's 
boy  ?  I  love  ye  well,  ye  know ;  but,  man  alive,  I 
did  never  think  ye  was  well  looking.  But  look 
at  this  now.  Why,  Peter,  my  own  man,  I  did  well 
in  choosing  ye,  though  I  little  thought  then  your 
good  looks  were  so  wonderful.  Ah,  man,  man, 
we're  no  fit  to  stay  longer  on  the  boat.  Sure,  there 
is  a  better  place  for  such  as  us." 

Rembrandt  could  restrain  himself  no  longer. 
He  burst  into  a  hearty  fit  of  laughter,  and  Albrecht 
joined  him.  The  sudden  sound  disturbed  the  ad 
miring  pair.  They  arose  hastily  and  took  the 
sketches  back  to  the  cabin  where  Rembrandt  had 
left  them  ;  these  peasants  would  not  have  been 
discovered  for  the  world  in  such  an  unwonted 
act.  With  instinctive  insight  Rembrandt  knew 
this  and  remained  concealed  for  some  time  behind 
the  bales,  until  after  the  captain  and  his  wife  were 
quite  composed  again,  though  still  murmuring 
to  each  other  words  of  wondering  admiration. 
At  last  he  and  Albrecht  emerged  and  quietly  ap 
proached  the  boat. 

"Ah,  Peter,  there  you  are.  Can  you  help  me 
32 


FINDING  THE  BARGES 

find  the  boat  my  friend  here  took  on  the  Rhine 
as  he  came  from  Nuremberg?" 

After  a  good  deal  of  pressing  to  and  fro  among 
the  crowds  that  thronged  the  quays  Albrecht's 
boat  was  found,  and  then  they  got  some  men  with 
handcarts  who  took  the  bags  and  boxes  of  the 
young  men  across  the  town  to  the  home  of  Hen- 
drik  von  Ulenburg. 

Rembrandt  had  there  a  hearty  greeting.  "  Ah  ! 
my  Leyden  friend,  you  here  again  !  On  my  heart 
I'm  glad  to  see  you,  but  who  is  with  you  ?  " 

"  One  whom  you  will  be  glad  to  know,"  said 
Rembrandt.  "  Albrecht  von  Stoltzing,  this  is  my 
old  friend  Hendrik  von  Ulenburg,  to  whom  you 
have  letters,  you  said.  Then  perhaps  you  need 
not  my  introduction,  but  you  can  give  the  letters 
afterward." 

"  I  greet  you  gladly,"  said  Hendrik;  "indeed, 
I  knew  something  of  your  coming.  You  are  from 
Nuremberg,  are  you  not?" 

"  I  am  glad  from  my  heart  to  meet  you,"  said 
Albrecht.  "  I  have  long  known  that  you  were  a 
lover  of  fine  prints  and  that  you  were  a  judge  of 
their  value.  I  have  many  that  I  would  show  you 
— some  by  the  immortal  Diirer  himself." 

"  Indeed,  indeed.  I  can  hardly  wait  to  see 
them.  But  surely  you  both  must  be  very  weary. 
How  came  you  hither?" 

"  Oh,  we  walked  most  of  the  way,"  said  Rem 
brandt,  "  because  the  boats  were  so  slow,  though 
after  all  they  came  here  about  as  soon  as  we 
did." 

"  Come  in  here  to  the  dining-room.     There's  a 

33 


REMBRANDT 

bit  of  sausage  and  some  Rhenish  there.  We  can 
talk  better  about  the  table." 

The  young  men  were  indeed  weary  and  ac 
cepted  Hendrik's  invitation  with  alacrity.  After 
they  were  refreshed  and  rested  Hendrik  asked 
them  both  of  their  plans  for  the  future. 

Said  Rembrandt :  "  I  have  come  here  to  stay. 
I  shall  not  leave  Amsterdam  from  henceforth.  It 
is  the  true  home  of  our  Dutch  art.  Hendrik,  may 
I  bide  with  you  for  a  brief  time,  until  I  find  a  stu 
dio  and  a  lodging?" 

"You  know  you  did  not  mean  to  ask  the  ques 
tion.  You  do  me  honor  and  more,  you  do  me  great 
pleasure  in  resting  beneath  my  roof.  Know  you, 
my  German  friend,  that  this  our  Leyden  painter 
is  a  famous  man?  He  is  already  a  master." 

"  I  have  heard  it  said,"  said  Albrecht;  "  but  in 
deed  he  did  so  strenuously  deny  it  as  we  talked 
by  the  way  that  I  half-believed  him.  He  said 
he  had  done  naught  but  what  he  would  gladly 
forget,  and  that  he  came  hither  that  he  might 
study  his  art." 

"  Talk  not  of  this,"  said  Rembrandt.  "  It  is  fool 
ish.  But  tell  me,  Hendrik,  where  dwells  Dr. 
Tulp?  I  would  present  a  letter  to  him — but  hold  ! 
1  am  selfish  as  ever.  Albrecht,  where  will  you 
lodge  here?  I  let  my  own  affairs  too  much  en 
gross  me." 

"  I  know  not,  but  I  thought  that  Hendrik  here 
might  judge.  Why  cannot  we  lodge  together  ?  " 

"  Well,  well,"  said  the  kindly  Hendrik,  "  1 
would  you  could  both  stay  here  with  me,  and  that 
you  shall  do  for  the  time.  Concern  yourself  no 

34 


FINDING  THE  BARGES 

more  about  it  to-night.  On  the  morrow  we  will 
discuss  it.  Now  it  is  rest  ye  need.  Hans,  see 
that  the  fire  is  alight  in  the  guest-room.  You 
must  share  it,  my  friends,  for  there  is  but  one." 

The  young  men  needed  no  second  invitation  to 
seek  the  rest  they  so  much  needed. 


35 


CHAPTER  V 

The  Studio  in  the   Warehouse 

THE  next  morning  the  impetuous  painter  and 
his  new-found  friend  set  themselves  to  the 
task  of  finding  a  suitable  place  of  abode,  though 
hospitable  Hendrik  greatly  regretted  their  deter 
mination  not  to  stay  with  him. 

"  Nay,"  said  Rembrandt,  "  that  could  'not  be, 
friend  Hendrik.  I  have  commissions  already,  as 
you  know,  and  must  have  a  studio.  We  will  stay 
with  you,  dear  friend,  until  a  proper  place  is  found, 
and  then  we  must  leave  you.  What  part  of  the 
town  would  you  think  best  for  my  purpose,  Hen 
drik?" 

"  If  you  needs  must  leave  me,  I  will  help  you  as 
well  as  I  can  to  find  what  you  need.  I  suppose 
you  do  not  want  to  pay  much  for  the  place  ?  " 

"No,  no,  not  yet,"  said  Rembrandt;  "but  I 
will  have  a  beautiful  home  some  day,  like  that  of 
Hals'  at  Haarlem." 

"  I  don't  doubt  it,  but  for  the  present — oh,  I  be 
think  me  now.  There  was  one  here  but  a  few 
days  since  who  said  there  was  an  empty  ware 
house  in  the  western  part  of  the  town,  on  the 
Bloengracht,  not  far  from  the  Westerkerk.  That 
might  meet  your  need.  I  have  not  seen  the  place, 
but  it  is  easy  to  go  there." 

36 


THE  STUDIO   IN  THE  WAREHOUSE 

"  Thanks,  Hendrik.  Come,  Albrecht,  let  us  go 
at  once.  I  must  lose  no  time." 

The  young  men  left  the  home  of  the  -picture- 
dealer,  and  soon  came  to  the  empty  warehouse  on 
the  canal.  Rembrandt  was  delighted  with  the 
place.  It  was  spacious  enough  to  pose  his  models 
as  he  pleased,  and  to  admit  of  others  studying 
with  him,  if  pupils  should  come.  In  the  gabled 
attic  it  would  be  easy  to  put  a  window  in  the  roof 
that  would  give  the  needed  north  light.  Albrecht 
was  overjoyed  to  find  there  was  room  for  him. 
The  Dutch  notary  was  a  little  slow  about  making 
out  the  papers  and  concluding  the  matter;  but  it 
was  done  at  last,  and  the  first  studio  of  Rem 
brandt  in  Amsterdam  was  an  accomplished  fact. 
Pending  these  negotiations  the  letter  to  Dr.  Tulp 
had  to  be  presented. 

"  Hendrik,"  said  Rembrandt  one  day,  before  the 
lease  was  signed,  "  what  a  curious  name  that, 
'Tulp.'  As  I  live,  it  is  only  Tulip!" 

"  Why,  Rembrandt,  you  have  been  here  so  often 
I  thought  you  knew  that  is  not  his  name.  That 
comes  from  a  carved  tulip  that  is  on  the  front  of  his 
house.  Dutchmen  love  to  do  such  things.  They 
are  fantastic,  if  they  are  slow  and  sometimes  rather 
heavy.  Why,  the  man's  name  is  Claes  Pieterz,  but 
he  thinks  '  Tulip '  has  a  better  sound.  But  don't  you 
believe  for  a  minute  that  he's  any  fool  because  he 
does  a  queer  thing  like  that.  Look  ye,  Rembrandt, 
you  may  search  Amsterdam  from  wall  to  wall,  and 
ye'll  find  no  greater  man  than  this  same  '  Tulip.'  " 

"  Oh,  yes !  I  know,  I  know.  Where  does  he 
lecture,  Hendrik?" 

37 


REMBRANDT 

"  In  a  room  above  the  small  meat  market.  Twice 
a  week  he  lectures  there,  but  you  cannot  be  ad 
mitted  unless  you  are  a  student  and  mean  to  be  a 
doctor." 

"  Indeed,  indeed,  I'll  put  on  my  gravest  mein 
then,  and,  looking  most  learned,  will  make  applica> 
tion  for  admittance  in  due  form.  Do  you  think 
these  doctors  need  to  study  the  body  more  than  I 
do?  Verily,  I  will  go  at  once.  I  must  hear  this 
learned  Tulip  talk  about  anatomy.  I  am  very 
serious  in  this  matter,  Hendrik.  Give  me  some 
means  of  entrance  there.  I  must  see  this  learned 
doctor  at  his  work,  and  I  must  study  with  him. 
True,  I  have  a  letter  to  him,  but  I  would  rather 
go  there  disguised  as  a  student." 

All  this  time  Albrecht  had  been  quite  silent. 
He  was  never  prone  to  much  talking.  Now  he 
said,  "  I  share  not  in  that  adventure  with  you,  friend 
Rembrandt.  I  love  not  dead  bodies,  and  would 
have  naught  to  do  with  them.  I  prefer  the  living, 
but  then  I  know  I  am  no  student.  Tell  me,  Hen 
drik,  who  was  that  maiden  who  came  hither  this 
morning — she  with  the  brown  ringlets  and  the 
sweet,  tender,  but  laughing  face  ?  " 

"Oh!  that  was  my  cousin  Saskia.  She  is  the 
daughter  of  the  great  Hombertus  of  Zealand,  he 
that  went  as  ambassador  to  Elizabeth  of  Eng 
land." 

"  Is  it  so  ?  She  has  a  rare  face.  She  minds  me 
of  a  Gretchen  whom  I  knew  in  Nuremberg,  but 
she  is  darker.  There  is,  though,  the  same  tender 
ness,  the  power  of  loving  in  the  eyes,  the  innocent 
mirth  about  the  lips." 

38 


THE  STUDIO   IN  THE  WAREHOUSE 

"  I  saw  her  not,"  said  Rembrandt ;  "  when  was 
she  here?  " 

"  Yesterday,  when  you  were  with  the  notary. 
She  comes  oft,"  said  Hendrik ;  "she  loves  pict 
ures  and  prints  and  must  needs  see  every  new 
one  that  I  have  to  show." 

"  Well,  I  would  gladly  see  her  too,  if  she  loves 
art.  I  will  come  again  to  meet  her." 

"  Well,"  said  Hendrik,  "  she  is  beautiful.  Per 
haps  she  may  let  you  paint  her.  She  is  kindly 
toward  artists." 

"  I  hope  so,  with  all  my  heart,"  said  Rembrandt. 
"  It  is  long-  since  I  have  painted  a  beautiful 
woman." 

Soon  the  studio  was  in  order,  and  Rembrandt 
was  busy  upon  the  portraits  for  which  he  already 
had  commissions  before  leaving  Leyden.  He 
was  entirely  absorbed  in  his  art,  and  knew  nothing 
of  aught  but  the  picture  before  him  until  it  was 
done ;  and  no  sooner  was  it  off  the  easel  than  the 
ferment  of  creative  energy  began  to  work  again 
upon  the  next  one.  These  portraits  soon  became 
the  talk  of  Amsterdam,  and  the  painter's  studio 
was  besieged  by  patrons  and  admirers.  There 
came  also  pupils  who  would  study  with  him, 
many  of  them  destined  to  be  famous  painters  in 
the  coming  days. 


39 


CHAPTER   VI 

Saskia 

TJENDRIK  VON  ULENBURG  came  to  his 
JL  1  desk  early  one  morning  to  look  at  Al- 
brecht's  prints.  Some  of  these  were  remarkable 
examples  of  Diirer's  work.  Such  had  not  before 
been  seen  in  Amsterdam.  "  Rembrandt  must  see 
these,"  he  thought.  "  I  must  send  for  him."  Just 
then  someone  knocked  at  the  door. 

"  Why,  Saskia,  is  that  you  ?  Why  came  you 
here  so  early  ?  " 

"  I  hardly  know,  Hendrik,  but  I  want  to  see  the 
prints  the  stranger  from  Nuremberg  brought;  and 
then,  what  is  it  I  hear  about  the  painter  from 
Leyden — Rembrandt?  You  know  him  well.  Is 
he  as  great  as  they  say  ?  " 

"  I  knew  not,  fair  cousin,  but  my  thought  is  that 
no  one  who  has  yet  come  to  Amsterdam  has  such 
a  mastery  of  his  art.  It  seems  as  if  a  touch  of  his 
brush  made  people  live." 

"  That  is  what  I  have  heard.  Is  he  like  the 
stranger  from  Nuremberg  whom  I  met  the  other 
day?" 

"  Not  in  the  least.  The  one  is  a  painter ;  the 
other  dreams  for  the  most  part,  but  none  the  less 
he  has  brought  to  us  great  works  of  art.  I  should 
not  wonder  if  Rembrandt  himself  would  buy 

40 


SASKIA 

some  of  them,  for  surely  he  loves  such  things,  and 
the  money  is  flowing  in  upon  him  from  the  por 
traits  he  is  painting." 

"  Tempt  him  not  with  them,  dear  cousin,"  said 
Saskia.  "  It  is  not  well  that  so  young  a  man 
should  buy  what  is  most  costly.  He  would  bet 
ter  wait  until  he  has  made  a  place  for  himself." 

"  Why,  Saskia,  you  seem  to  take  much  interest 
in  him,  though  you  have  not  seen  him." 

"  Yes,  yes  ;  that  is  true.  You  know  how  I  ad 
mire  painting,  and  the  sudden  success  of  this 
young  man — a  miller's  son  from  Leyden,  is  he  not? 
— interests  me  much.  I  wanted  to  know  more 
about  him." 

"  Cousin  Saskia,  if  you  will  wait  a  little  while  I 
think  you  can  talk  with  him  yourself.  He  often 
comes  here  early  to  look  at  the  prints  and  pictures, 
before  he  begins  his  work  in  his  studio." 

"  I  am  astonished  at  you,  Hendrik.  What  think 
you  of  me,  that  I  should  wait  here  to  meet  a 
stranger  !  Would  you  have  me  unmaidenly  ?  " 

"  Nay,  nay,  Saskia  ;  be  not  impatient  with  me. 
I  meant  no  harm,  and  I  am  sure  you  meant  none. 
Go,  if  you  like.  Far  be  it  from  me  to  detain  you ; 
but,  ah  !  you  are  too  late.  There  is  Rembrandt 
coming  up  the  street.  You  cannot  escape  him 
now ;  he  is  at  the  very  door." 

In  another  moment  the  young  painter  entered, 
hasty,  impetuous  as  always,  thinking  of  the  Dti- 
rer  prints  he  wanted  to  see  again. 

"  Oh,  Hendrik,  I  have  but  a  little  while.  Show 
me  those  prints  again.  But,  ah,  pardon  !  There 
is  a  lady  here  ;  I  will  come  another  time." 

41 


"  Oh,  Rembrandt,  what  a  fellow  you  are.  Is 
there  any  reason  on  earth  why  you  shouldn't  meet 
the  lady  ?  Ha,  ha  !  she's  my  Cousin  Saskia.  Come 
in,  man.  In  good  sooth,  I  verily  believe  she 
wants  to  see  you.  She  was  just  talking  to  me 
about  you.  Now,  don't  run  away,  Saskia ;  here 
is  Rembrandt.  Talk  to  him  about  his  art,  if  you 
are  so  much  interested  in  it  as  you  said  a  minute 
ago." 

Thus  they  met.  Saskia,  surprised,  lifted  her 
face,  to  which  Hendrik's  blunt  humor  had  brought 
blushes.  With  much  dignity  she  came  toward 
Rembrandt.  He  stood  for  a  moment  not  moving. 
This  sudden  vision  of  a  beauty  such  as  he  had 
never  seen  before  quite  startled  him.  All  his  im 
petuosity,  his  eagerness  for  the  prints,  was  for 
gotten.  Here  was  a  living  beauty.  That  was  far 
better.  At  the  first  sight  it  took  hold  upon  the 
painter's  heart,  and  he  could  not  move  nor  speak 
for  the  love  of  looking  at  it ;  but  it  was  only  for  a 
moment.  When  he  realized  his  rudeness  in  not 
greeting  her  he  blushed  more  deeply  than  she, 
and  going  toward  her  said,  in  his  courtly  way  :  "  I 
am  honored,  indeed,  to  meet  you.  I  have  heard 
of  you  from  my  friend  Albrecht  and  from  dear 
Hendrik  here;  but  albeit,  though  they  spoke  most 
highly,  they  said  not  half  the  truth." 

"  I  thank  you  for  your  kind  words.  Indeed,  my 
cousin  plays  me  false.  He  is  always  for  his  fun, 
and  would  make  a  jest  of  the  one  he  loved  best 
in  the  world.  But  then  I  think  you  know  his 
humor.  I  am  for  fun  myself.  I  am  quite  like 
Hendrik  in  that." 

42 


SASKIA 

"Are  you  indeed  for  fun?  Nay,  but  there  is 
more,  I  am  sure." 

"  Do  you  think  fun  so  bad  a  thing  ?  You  look 
so  serious  about  it." 

"  No,  no,  I  do  not  think  it  bad.  I  like  it,  but 
I  suppose  I  am  a  little  serious  all  the  time  about 
my  art,  but,  believe  me,  not  about  your  fun,  as  you 
call  it.  It  may  be  fun,  but  it  seems  like  looking  on 
the  playful  side  of  life  with  a  purpose.  But  why 
do  I  talk  in  this  foolish  way?  I  only  know  what 
your  face  has  told  me.  You  must  forgive  me.  I 
am  a  painter,  and  it  is  my  habit  to  study  faces. 
Yours  has  already  told  me  much." 

"  Ah  !  if  you  are  a  painter,  I  may  meet  you  here 
again  at  Cousin  Hendrik's." 

"  I  hope  so,  from  my  heart."  Then  Saskia  left 
the  print-seller's  shop. 


43 


CHAPTER  VII 

At  the  House  of  Sylvius 

SASKIA  at  that  time  was  twenty  years  of  age. 
She  was  most  genial  and  kindly,  but  had 
known  many  of  those  who,  in  the  days  of  Hol 
land's  struggle,  had  become  stern  and  severe. 
Her  own  father  had  been  at  the  table  in  the  palace 
at  Delft  with  William  of  Orange,  just  before  his  as 
sassination.  Sylvius  the  preacher  was  her  friend, 
and  at  his  house  she  met  many  who  were  like  the 
Puritans  of  Cromwell's  time. 

Saskia  had  been  greatly  influenced  by  these  sur 
roundings,  and  all  through  her  life  she  retained 
a  gentle  seriousness  and  a  very  firm  purpose  that 
were  contrasted  in  a  singularly  charming  way 
with  her  natural  playful  sunniness  of  disposition. 
It  was  not  strange  that  Rembrandt  and  Albrecht 
had  been  so  much  impressed  by  her.  She  was  in 
the  thought  of  both  while  the  work  at  the  studio 
went  on.  Not  that  Albrecht  worked  much,  but 
he  sympathized,  and  that  was  something  ;  indeed, 
it  was  what  Rembrandt  needed  most  until  Saskia 
came  into  his  life,  for  he  was  not  a  man  who  made 
friends  easily. 

"  Albrecht,"  said  Rembrandt,  one  day,  "  I  am 
tired  of  this.  You  know  those  models  are  of  no 
use.  They  are  hideous,  but  I  can  get  no  others. 

44 


AT  THE  HOUSE  OF  SYLVIUS 

I  wonder  if  Hendrik's  cousin  would  sit  for  me. 
How  I  should  like  to  paint  her  portrait." 

"  I  know  not,"  said  Albrecht,  "  but  it  seems  to 
me  there  would  be  no  harm  in  asking.  It  is  easy 
to  find  her  either  at  Hendrik's  or  the  house  of 
the  preacher  Sylvius." 

"  I  wonder  if  Saskia — well,  I  said  that  before. 
Come  on,  Albrecht,  let  us  go  to  Hendrik's  place, 
and  then  I  think  I  will  buy  one  of  your  Diirer 
prints.  I  want  it  for  the  studio.  I  am  full  of  the 
thought  of  beauty,  and  I  must  paint  Saskia  and 
buy  the  Diirer  prints,  or  I  shall  go  mad." 

"Rembrandt,  you  ought  not  to  buy  the  prints. 
They  are  too  costly  for  one  whose  fortune  is  yet 
to  be  made ;  and  then,  you  know,  you  mean  to 
get  married." 

"  What  in  the  world  is  the  matter  with  you, 
Albrecht?  Get  married!  Why,  man!  I  never 
said  a  word  about  such  a  thing,  nor  thought  a 
thought  about  it  either." 

"  Rembrandt,  Rembrandt !  Why  do  you  want 
to  paint  Saskia?" 

"  Because  she  is  beautiful,  and  the  models  that 
I  have  are  so  bad  that  a  good  picture  can  hardly 
be  made  from  them." 

"  Because  she  is  beautiful ;  and  you  think,  my 
friend,  that  you  only  want  to  paint  her.  Oh ! 
well,  I  know  better;  but  never  mind,  let  us  go  to 
Hendrik's  and  find  her,  if  we  can.  If  not  there, 
she  will  surely  be  at  the  home  of  Sylvius." 

The  young  men  left  the  studio  and  went  to 
Hendrik's  print-shop.  Saskia  was  not  there. 
Then  they  went  to  the  preacher's  house.  That 

45 


REMBRANDT 

was  full  of  ministers  and  those  who  attended  the 
church  of  Sylvius.  There  were  so  many  that  the 
rooms,  although  large,  were  crowded.  After  a 
little  time,  Rembrandt's  keen  eye  found  Saskia ; 
but  he  could  not  approach  her,  nor  would  it  have 
been  a  proper  time  to  proffer  his  request. 

Just  at  that  moment  the  preacher  was  speaking 
to  those  who  had  gathered  at  his  house  of  human 
courage,  divinely  inspired,  and  his  text  was  really 
"  William  the  Silent."  There  was  a  quiet,  a  hush 
of  expectancy,  as  Sylvius  went  on  through  the 
scenes  of  his  life  to  that  awful  day  at  Delft,  when 
the  bigot  of  Spain  completed  his  work  and,  by 
the  hands  of  his  hired  assassin,  ended  the  great 
man's  life. 

Saskia  had  so  often  heard  her  father  speak  of 
this  terrible  scene  that  she  was  greatly  moved, 
and  sought  the  door,  thinking  to  go  home.  Rem 
brandt  felt  instinctively  what  her  wish  was,  and 
passed  through  the  crowd  that  he  might  help 
her.  Albrecht  came  close  behind  him,  and  soon 
they  made  a  way  for  Saskia  to  reach  the  door. 
She  was  grateful,  but  surprised,  that  these 
strangers  should  thus  assist  her ;  but  she  knew 
they  were  Hendrik's  friends,  and  therefore  trust 
ed  them. 

Many  proud  men  are  shy,  and  Rembrandt  was 
one  of  these.  At  last,  however,  he  mustered  up 
courage  enough  to  tell  Saskia  that  he  had  come 
there  to  seek  her,  and  for  what  purpose. 

"  I  beg  you  to  pardon  me  if  I  have  done  amiss 
in  asking  this  favor  of  you — I  am  almost  a  stran 
ger  to  you — but  Hendrik  told  me  you  were  in- 

46 


AT  THE  HOUSE  OF  SYLVIUS 

terested  in  art  and  would  help  a  painter  who 
wants  to  paint  what  is  beautiful.  Forgive  me  if  I 
embarrass  you  by  my  request,  but  I  cannot  help 
it.  I  want  to  paint  your  portrait.  Will  you  let 
me  do  it  ?  " 

"  Indeed,  sir,  it  is  quite  true  that  you  do  embar 
rass  me  much.  What!  say  you?  paint  the  beau 
tiful,  and  in  the  same  breath  ask  to  paint  me  ? 
Why,  I  can  but  laugh !  Nay,  sir,  another  reason 
you  did  speak  of,  that  you  had  need  of  me  for 
art's  sake.  Then,  if  that  is  true,  I  am  serious  again. 
I  will  laugh  no  more,  but  for  my  life  I  cannot  see 
what  you  want  with  me." 

"  But,  lady !  I  do  want  you.  I  want  you  very 
much.  I  must  paint  you.  I  never  saw  anyone 
who  was  such  a  type — oh  !  is  that  it,  type  !  No,  I 
did  not  mean  that — such  a — never  mind!  I  know 
one  thing,  I  mean  I  want  to  paint  your  portrait, 
and  you  will  come  to  the  studio,  will  you  not?" 

"  Yes,  I  think  I  will  come,  but  it  does  seem  so 
very  droll." 

Meanwhile  Albrecht,  the  dreamer,  had  been 
quite  wide  awake,  and  had  been  watching  the  two 
with  great  amusement.  Rembrandt's  embarrass 
ment  and  boldness  combined  had  quite  overcome 
the  young  German.  He  almost  laughed  aloud. 
Nevertheless,  he  seconded  Rembrandt's  request, 
and  it  was  agreed  that  Saskia  should  come  to  the 
studio  on  the  next  day. 


47 


CHAPTER  VIII 

The  Painting  of  the  Portrait 

"  A  LBRECHT,"  said  Rembrandt  the  next  morn- 
2\.  ing,  "  I  do  not  know  what  to  do  with  the 
pupils.  I  never  thought.  It  will  never  do  to  have 
Saskia  von  Ulenburg  here  while  they  are  about. 
It  would  be  an  indignity  to  her." 

"  Oh,  really,  Rembrandt?  Why,  yes,  perhaps  so. 
I  had  not  thought  about  that.  An  indignity,  you 
say?  I  hardly  see  why,  if  she  is  willing  to  come 
to  an  artist's  studio  and  be  painted.  You  said  you 
only  wanted  to  paint  her,  but  perhaps  you  thought 
you  might  be  alone  with  her.  Oh  !  ho  !  my  friend, 
I  have  thee  now." 

"  Albrecht,  I  know  not  what  has  come  over  you 
to  talk  in  this  way.  You  will  have  your  joke,  I 
suppose.  Nay,  I  care  not.  I  wish  to  paint  the  face 
because  it  is  beautiful,  but  I  will  not  have  the  lady 
looked  upon  and  talked  about  by  the  pupils." 

"  Very  well,  then,  there  is  plenty  of  room  in  the 
warehouse.  Let  the  pupils  take  their  easels  up  to 
the  top  floor,  and  you  can  paint  Saskia  von  Ulen 
burg  below  ;  and  then,  you  know,  when  you  get 
tired  of  painting  you  can  go  up  and  give  the  pu 
pils  a  little  lesson,  and  then  you  can  come  down 
again  and  go  on  with  the  painting.  They  will  be 
none  the  wiser.  Not  a  whit  would  they  care  even 

48 


THE   PAINTING  OF  THE   PORTRAIT 

if  they  did  know  about  your  having  a  lady  down 
here  with  you.  It  is  not  hard  to  arrange  it,  since 
you  want  it  so  done.  The  lady's  cousin  will  be 
with  her ;  and  there  will  be  nothing  for  the  stu 
dents  to  talk  about,  even  if  they  do  find  out.  I  have 
a  good  mind  to  come  in  myself.  I  can't  paint,  but 
I  do  like  to  look  at  a  beautiful  woman.  No,  I  won't 
do  that.  I  don't  want  to  lose  a  friend,  and  there  is 
no  surer  way  of  doing  it  than  to  be  in  the  way." 

"  Albrecht,  have  done,  I  say  !  I  will  no  longer 
tolerate  your  jesting  in  this  matter.  Nevertheless, 
the  suggestion  you  give  is  a  good  one,  and  I 
will  follow  it.  Let  us  make  the  arrangements  at 
once." 

The  pupils  were  moved  accordingly  to  the  up 
per  floor,  Rembrandt  giving  as  a  pretext  that  the 
light  was  better  there.  In  truth  it  was,  but  he 
might  have  thought  of  that  before.  After  all  was 
in  order  Albrecht  went  off  to  Hendrik's,  taking 
some  of  his  beloved  Diirers  that  he  might  per 
chance  find  someone  who  would  buy  them. 

Saskia  came  as  she  had  agreed,  and  with  her 
was  the  wife  of  her  Cousin  Hendrik. 

She  greeted  the  painter  with  a  merry  smile, 
saying,  "  I  have  come  for  art's  sake,  you  see,  as 
you  asked  me  to  do.  Now  do  your  best  with  your 
subject,  since  you  have  her.  If  you  make  an  ugly 
picture  of  me  I  will  never  forgive  you — no,  never ! " 

"  Fair  lady,  I  thank  you  for  your  kindness.  I 
hope  to  paint  truth,  and  that  will  be  a  guarantee 
for  the  picture's  beauty." 

"  In  good  sooth,  you  have  the  gallantry  of  a 
courtier  rather  than  of  a  man  who  paints  so  seri- 

49 


REMBRANDT 

ously  as  I  am  told  you  do.  Where  learned  you 
these  courtly  manners?  In  Leyden's  University, 
perhaps." 

"  I  pray  you,  do  not  jest  with  me.  I  said  but 
what  I  meant,  nor  said  I  nearly  enough.  Will 
you  come  to  the  studio — it  is  close  at  hand — and 
let  me  begin  the  picture?  " 

The  pose  was  soon  arranged.  With  the  quick 
intuition  of  genius  Rembrandt  saw  the  very  life 
of  his  subject,  and  could  have  painted  it  at  once 
if  he  had  done  the  same  as  with  others;  but  here 
there  seemed  to  be  something  different.  He 
knew  that  he  could  paint;  but  what  was  it  that 
made  his  eager  brush  stop  its  work  of  skilful  ex 
pression,  while  he  laid  it  down  and  looked  at 
Saskia?  He  knew  not  that  he  had  laid  it  down. 
He  had  forgotten  the  picture  because  of  the  wom 
an,  but  even  yet  he  did  not  know  it. 

"What  do  you  there,  friend  artist?"  said  Sas 
kia.  "  You  have  not  painted  a  stroke  for  half 
an  hour,  I  verily  believe,  and  I  am  getting  tired 
sitting  here.' 

"  Oh,  I  beg  you  to  forgive  me.  I  had  forgotten 
to  p'aint  for  awhile."  And  he  thought,  "  Is  that 
possible  for  me  ?  What  has  come  to  me?  " 

Then  he  began  again,  and  there  were  no  words 
between  them  for  a  time.  The  merry  Saskia  sat 
as  quiet  as  she  could,  and  the  deep-thinking  paint 
er  went  back  to  his  art  again  for  awhile.  Not 
even  Saskia's  face,  which  had  so  charmed  him, 
could  make  him  neglectful  of  the  art  which  was 
his  life.  But  at  last  the  merry  maiden  could  keep 
silence  no  longer. 

50 


THE  PAINTING  OF  THE  PORTRAIT 

"  I  really  think  you  are  the  most  curious  per 
son  I  ever  saw.  Why,  for  awhile  you  did  not 
paint  at  all,  and  I  got  very  tired  waiting.  I 
wonder  what  you  were  doing  then.  And  now 
you  won't  do  anything  but  paint,  and  there's  not 
a  word  for  me — poor  me!  I  am  tired.  You  have 
painted  enough.  That  will  do  for  one  day.  Now 
come  and  tell  me  about  the  mill  at  Leyden.  Were 
you  really  born  in  a  mill  ?" 

Rembrandt  at  the  moment  was  so  deeply  ab 
sorbed  in  his  work  that  he  hardly  heard  what 
Saskia  said.  He  added  two  strokes  of  the  brush, 
and  the  likeness  was  nearing  perfection. 

"  Oh,  you  spoke  to  me  !  I  beg  your  pardon,  I 
was  absorbed  in  your  face.  Was  I  born  in  a  mill, 
did  you  say  ?  I  thought  I  heard  you  say  that." 

"  Indeed,  that  is  just  what  I  did  say  ;  and  I  think 
when  a  lady  asks  a  question  a  gentleman  ought  at 
least  to  answer  it." 

"Oh!  please  do  not  be  angry.  I  was  just  put 
ting  that  touch  on  the  cheek,  and  I  could  not 
speak  just  then  because  of  its  beauty.  Yes,  yes,  I 
was  born  in  a  mill  at  Leyden,  and  my  father  was 
a  miller ;  but  he  was  a  keen  and  far-sighted  man, 
and  my  mother  was  as  able  as  he." 

"  You  live  in  a  mill?  Wasn't  there  a  dreadful 
clatter  of  the  stones?  I  can't  see  however  you 
could  have  painted  in  such  a  place." 

"  It  was  not  easy ;  but  the  truth  is  I  never  have 
been  able  to  do  anything  but  paint,  and  I  am  not 
in  the  least  sure  that  I  can  even  do  that.  The 
clatter  of  a  mill  after  all  matters  but  little  when 
one  is  thinking  only  of  his  work." 

51 


REMBRANDT 

"  I  see,  I  see,"  said  Saskia.  "  I  don't  believe  all 
the  mills  in  Holland  would  have  disturbed  you  a 
few  minutes  ago." 

"  Ah  !  that  is  true  indeed,  fair  lady,  but  I  never 
had  such  a  subject  to  paint.  It  would  indeed  be 
impossible  to  think  of  anything  else  in  the  pres 
ence  of  such  a  face  and  form." 

"  Oh !  there  is  your  gallantry  again.  I  don't 
believe  you  were  born  in  a  mill.  Millers'  sons  do 
not  often  have  the  ways  of  a  court.  You  mind  me 
much  of  my  father  Hombertus,  with  your  grave 
dignity  and  your  fair  speeches." 

"  Now  indeed  would  I  give  you  a  courtly  an 
swer  if  I  could,  for  you  have  paid  me  two  com 
pliments — one  in  thinking  about  me  at  all,  and 
the  other  in  comparing  my  name  with  that  of  the 
great  man  whom  all  our  countrymen  revere." 

Saskia  saw  that  she  had  betrayed  herself,  and 
she  blushed  deeply  and  in  some  confusion  arose, 
saying  :  * 

"  I  think  I  have  sat  for  you  long  enough.  I  will 
go  home.  There  is  work  to  do  in  the  house,  is 
there  not,  cousin  ?  " 

But  Hendrik's  wife  had  been  weaned  during 
the  long  painting  not  broken  by  any  talk  and  she 
was  sound  asleep  in  her  chair,  which  was  at  some 
little  distance  from  the  platform  where  Saskia  had 
been  sitting. 

It  was  true  that  Rembrandt  had  deeply  inter 
ested  Saskia  the  very  first  time  she  met  him,  but 
she  had  not  been  aware  of  it ;  nor  would  she  even 
now  admit  it  to  herself,  in  spite  of  the  personal 
character  of  the  words  she  had  just  been  using. 

52 


THE  PAINTING  OF  THE  PORTRAIT 

The  very  thought  that  this  lovely  woman  cared 
to  know  about  him  had  suddenly  revealed  to 
Rembrandt  that  what  he  most  cared  for  in  the 
world  was  to  know  about  her. 

"Cousin,  I  say,  we  must  be  going  hence."  But 
still  the  lady  slept. 

Rembrandt  came  toward  Saskia  and  said,  "  Go 
not  yet,  I  pray.  Stay  yet  a  little  while.  I  have 
answered  your  questions,  will  you  not  answer 
mine  ?  It  is  but  fair." 

"  Nay,  but  I  must  go.  It  is  getting  late.  What 
question  would  you  ask?  I  have  naught  to  tell 
you  of  your  art." 

"  Said  I  aught  of  art?  It  is  of  yourself  I  would 
know." 

"  Of  myself,  indeed.  Now,  no  more  of  your  fair 
words  and  your  jestings,  friend  artist.  Have  I 
not  just  seen  that  you  forgot  me  and  all  else  in 
your  work.  I  will  answer  no  questions,  but — but 
—you  may  finish  your  picture  of  me  the  day  after 
to-morrow,  if  you  will." 

"  Ah  !  well,  then,  if  you  will  come  again  I  must 
not  detain  you  now,  but  I  warn  you  the  picture 
will  be  long  in  painting.  It  is  a  most  intricate 
and  difficult  subject,  and,  moreover,  I  care  but 
little  for  what  I  have  done.  It  pleases  me  not. 
I  must  begin  again.  I  scarce  can  see  why  I  have 
failed  so  utterly.  I  will  not  even  let  you  see  it." 

"  But  I  will  see  it ;  indeed,  I  will.  Think  you 
I  will  sit  here  so  long  and  all  just  to  do  a  favor 
to  a  painter,  and  then  not  see  his  work?  " 

By  this  time  Saskia  had  recovered  her  self- 
possession.  If  her  mistake  had  produced  ill  re- 

53 


REMBRANDT 

suits,  she  seemed  not  to  fear  them  greatly.  But 
Rembrandt  would  not  let  her  see  the  picture,  and 
there  was  a  merry  war  of  words  between  them 
which  at  last  woke  up  Hendrik's  wife. 

Then  it  was  indeed  time  to  go,  for  Saskia's 
blushing  cheeks  and  Rembrandt's  ardent  eyes 
were  eloquent  of  something  quite  unconnected 
with  art. 

Moreover,  a  sort  of  silence  seemed  to  come 
when  Hendrik's  wife  awakened,  which  was  in  it 
self  suspicious. 

With  much  gravity  she  brought  Saskia's  wraps 
and  her  own,  and  bade  the  painter  a  dignified 
farewell.  He  answered  with  equal  courtesy,  but 
his  heart  gave  a  leap  when  he  remembered  that 
Saskia  had  promised  to  come  again  for  the  finish 
ing  of  the  picture. 

"  Her  picture  will  never  be  finished  so  long  as 
she  lives,"  thought  Rembrandt. 


54 


CHAPTER  IX 

Dr.   Tulp  Orders  a  Picture 

r  I  "HE  next  day  the  commission  came  to  Rem- 
JL  brandt  from  Dr.  Tulp  for  a  picture  of  the 
doctor  and  his  class  engaged  in  a  lesson  on  anat 
omy,  which  picture  the  famous  doctor  said  he 
meant  to  give  to  the  guild  of  surgeons. 

This,  then,  was  to  be  a  work  on  the  same  plan 
with  those  of  Hals,  which  Rembrandt  had  seen  at 
Haarlem.  Here,  indeed,  was  an  opportunity. 
The  painter's  heart  beat  quick  with  sudden  ex 
citement.  He  at  once  accepted  the  commission, 
and  the  messenger  who  had  brought  it  bore  back 
the  acceptance.  There  was  not  the  least  hesita 
tion  in  the  artist's  mind,  although  he  had  never 
attempted  a  picture  on  such  a  scale.  He  was 
beginning  to  know  his  mastery  and  would  stop 
at  nothing.  Nevertheless,  when  the  messenger 
had  gone  he  became  thoughtful.  He  felt  that 
he  must  know  this  scene  before  he  painted  it, 
and  then  he  remembered  what  he  had  said  at 
Hendrik's  about  going  as  a  student  to  hear  one 
of  Dr.  Tulp's  lectures. 

He  left  the  studio  with  hurried  step,  and  went 
toward  Albrecht's  room. 

"  Albrecht,  Albrecht,  are  you  there?  " 

"  Yes,  yes,  I  am ;  come  in,  man.     Why,  I  didn't 

55 


DR.  TULP  ORDERS  A  PICTURE 

expect  you  at  this  hour  in  the  morning.  I'm  lazy, 
you  know,  and  I  never  get  over  to  Hendrik's  or 
anywhere  else  until  long  after  this  time ;  but  I 
thought  you  were  painting." 

"  Oh  !  of  course,  I  have  been  painting  for 
hours,"  said  Rembrandt,  rather  impatiently. 
"  That  is  not  what  I  came  to  talk  to  you  about. 
Look  at  that  letter  from  Dr.  Tulp." 

He  handed  Albrecht  the  commission.  The 
fair-haired  German  quietly  rose  and  went  over  to 
the  window,  where  he  might  read  it  more  easily. 
He  read  with  such  deliberation  that  Rembrandt's 
small  stock  of  patience  was  exhausted. 

"Can't  you  read  a  simple  thing  like  that?  I 
thought  you  were  a  scholar.  Be  in  haste,  for  I 
would  speak  with  you  about  it." 

"Nay,  friend,"  said  Albrecht,  "be  not  impa- 
tient.  I  was  not  only  reading  it.  I  was  also 
thinking  it  over,  for  it  is  indeed  a  weighty  matter 
and  requires  careful  and  deliberate  thought." 

"  I  thought  not  long  about  the  acceptance  of  it, 
for  I  sent  my  answer  back  by  the  messenger  who 
brought  this  ;  but  I  am  thinking  that  I  cannot  do 
as  I  would  with  such  a  subject  unless  I  can  hear 
.the  lecture  and  watch  the  pupils  as  they  listen. 
•Hark  you,  Albrecht,  I  will  go  there  in  disguise, 
;as  some  doctor  come  from  Haarlem  to  hear  the 
;famous  Tulp." 

•"  I  think,  friend  Rembrandt,  that  would  hardly 
do,  for  all  the  learned  men  of  Holland  are  well 
known  to  the  great  professor." 

"  Perhaps  you  are  right,  Albrecht,  but  devise 
.another  way  then.  I  would  see  them  at  their 

56 


DR.  TULP  ORDERS  A  PICTURE 

work  quite  naturally,  as  they  always  do  it.  If  I 
am  there  as  a  painter  every  one  of  them,  includ 
ing  the  learned  doctor,  will  begin  posing  at  once, 
and  then  farewell  to  the  truth  I  want." 

"  Let  us  go  first  to  the  lesser  meat  market,  where 
Dr.  Tulp  lectures  in  a  large  room  above,  and  find 
when  next  time  he  will  dissect  a  corpse,  and  what 
corpse  it  will  be,  and  when  the  lecture  will  be 
given.  Then  shall  we  be  better  informed  and 
can  make  our  plans  more  wisely." 

"  As  you  will,  then,  but  let  us  go  directly.  I 
am  impatient  in  this  matter,  for  already  it  has 
taken  a  strong  hold  upon  my  mind." 

The  young  men  went  together  to  the  market, 
and  their  inquiries  were  soon  successful,  for  Al- 
brecht  was  a  German  and  not  well  known  as  yet 
in  Amsterdam,  and  he  said  that  he  had  heard  of 
the  fame  of  Dr.  Tulp  and  would  fain  hear  one  of 
his  lectures. 

The  doctor  was  to  give  a  lesson  on  the  morrow, 
and  the  corpse  was  that  of  a  criminal  named 
Adriaen  Adriaenz. 

"  But  what  care  you  about  his  name,  my 
masters?  Sure,  ye  know  that  only  criminals' 
bodies  are  given  to  the  doctors,"  said  the  at 
tendant. 

"  Oh  !  yes,  of  course,"  said  Rembrandt,  "  we 
know  all  that ;  but  I  know  something  of  this  same 
criminal — at  least,  I  have  heard  of  him — and  I 
would  fain  see  the  body  to  know  how  he  looked. 
You  can  let  my  friend  and  myself  take  a  seat  in 
a  dark  corner  and  listen  to  the  lecture.  We  will 
disturb  no  one.  At  what  hour  can  we  come  ?" 

57 


Rembrandt  slipped  a  little  money  into  the  fel 
low's  hand. 

"  At  ten  of  the  clock,  masters,  for  the  lesson  is 
at  eleven,  and  they  bring  in  the  corpse  before  that 
time." 

"  Good  !  We  shall  be  here.  Thanks,  good  fel 
low.  Come,  Albrecht." 

The  young  men  left  the  meat  market  and  re 
paired  to  the  studio  in  the  warehouse.  Their  way 
led  sometimes  through  very  narrow  streets  whose 
gabled  houses,  leaning  toward  each  other,  almost 
shut  out  the  sun,  sometimes  along  broader  thor 
oughfares  in  which  a  canal  was  the  principal  high 
way,  but  there  was  room  on  each  bank  icr  a  drive 
way  and  foot-path.  Little  cared  Rembrandt  at 
this  moment  whether  he  walked  in  an  alley  or  the 
finest  of  streets.  Really,  he  was  walking  on  air, 
for  this  new  idea  had  taken  complete  possession 
of  him. 

"  Albrecht,  Albrecht !  It  must  be  so  done,  you 
see  it,  I  am  sure.  If  they  knew  I  was  there,  they 
would  pose,  as  I  said.  Now,  no  one  has  attempted 
this  before.  It  is  not  in  our  Dutch  art.  Franz 
Hals  even  did  not  do  it  —nay,  he  did  not  try  to  do 
it.  I  am  sure  it  can  be  done  in  that  way.  How 
paint  life  unless  you  see  it?  Oh,  yes !  What  a 
glorious  problem  for  a  painter!  " 

"  Now,  Rembrandt,  you  are  striding  along  at 
such  a  rate  that  I  vow  my  legs  are  aweary,  and  you 
are  talking  at  such  a  rate  that  I  vow  my  ears  are 
aweary.  Calm  yourself,  man,  and  walk  a  little 
slower,  or  you'll  have  to  seek  another  companion. 
We  aren't  near  the  studio  yet,  and  I  want  to  catch 

58 


DR.  TULP  ORDERS  A  PICTURE 

my  breath.  I  wouldn't  live  in  such  a  state  of  tur 
moil  as  do  you  for  all  the  art  in  Christendom. 
Oh  !  man,  for  the  sake  of  all  the  saints,  especially 
St.  Christopher,  who  walked  well  with  a  good 
stick,  as  I  believe,  let  us  take  an  even,  quiet 
pace,  and  we  will  talk  about  your  disguise  for  the 
morn." 

"  Well,  well,  I  meant  not  to  incommode  you, 
Albrecht.  I  knew  not  that  I  was  walking  too 
swiftly.  You  are  right,  let  us  decide  upon  a  dis 
guise.  You  need  none,  for  you  are  not  known  ; 
but  Dr.  Tulp  would  know  me  if  we  are  discov 
ered,  which  I  hope  will  not  happen." 

"  Yea,  but  it  may  happen.  Methinks,  friend,  a 
full  mustache  and  chin  whisker  would  be  quite 
enough.  None  would  know  our  Rembrandt  thus 
—but  the  eyes,  the  eyes,  my  friend!  I  fear  they 
will  betray  you.  We  can  do  naught  about  that 
except  keep  in  the  shadow  as  much  as  we  can,  and 
you  can  wear  a  hat  that  will  cast  a  deep  shade. 
Why,  these  Dutchmen  always  wear  big  hats!  A 
cloak  around  you.  I  see  !  You  are  the  German's 
friend!  Why,  Rembrandt,  1  know  not  when  I 
have  been  so  aroused  in  keenness  for  adventure. 
We  will  try  it,  and  you  shall  paint  the  greatest  of 
the  guild  pictures.  I  see  it  already.  It  will  be 
grand,  and  you  will  be  the  most  famous  painter  in 
Amsterdam." 

"  Albrecht,  you  are  a  noble  fellow.  You  seem 
never  to  think  of  yourself,  and  I  am  always  think 
ing  of  myself — or  is- it  my  work?  Sometimes  I 
cannot  tell  one  from  the  other,  but  it  matters  not. 
We  will  do  as  you  have  said,  and  to-morrow,  un- 

59 


REMBRANDT 

seen,  unknown,  I  will  study   my   doctor  and   his 
pupils." 

"  There  is  nothing  noble  about  me,  friend  Rem 
brandt,  but  I  am  greatly  interested,  as  I  said ;  and 
when  we  Germans,  even  dreamers,  are  really 
forced  into  action,  we  become  almost  as  impetu 
ous  as  you  are."  . 


60 


CHAPTER  X 

Saskia  s  Portrait  Forgotten 

THE  next  day  Saskia,  with  Hendrik's  wife, 
came  again  to  the  studio  as  she  had  prom 
ised.  Not  without  effort  had  she  come,  for  well 
she  remembered  what  she  had  said,  and  well  she 
knew  that  the  painter  who  had  so  deeply  stirred 
her  had  confessed  an  answering' emotion.  "  I  shall 
see  him  again,"  she  thought,  "and  I  will  not  be  so 
unkind  as  I  was  before,  if  he  speaks  to  me  again 
with  that  ardent  look  in  his  great  eyes.  Ah,  me! 
ah,  me !  what  has  come  over  me  ?  Why  did  -I  not 
stay  away  another  day  ?  Is  a  maiden  to  be  so 
lightly  won  ?  And  much  I  fear  me  it  has  come  to 
that.  Perhaps  he  did  not  mean  to  woo  me  after 
all.  Alas !  If  I  were  wrong — and  yet,  and  yet, 
those  eyes — the  words  he  seemed  about  to  speak 
when  I  left  him  !  I  shall  know  now  I  am  sure.  I 
can  tell  when  I  look  into  those  eyes  again." 

She  lifted  the  big  brass  knocker  and  let  it  fall 
once,  twice,  and  then  the  servant  came  and  opened 
the  door. 

"  Is  your  master  within?"  said  Saskia. 

"  I  don't  know,  mistress.  I've  been  grinding 
colors  in  the  studio.  He  wasn't  there,  but  per 
haps  he's  down  here.  Come  in,  mistress,  and  set 
ye  down.  I'll  go  search  him." 

61 


REMBRANDT 

Saskia,  surprised  and  hesitating,  entered.  She 
could  not  believe  that  Rembrandt  had  forgotten 
about  her  coming — yet  she  trembled  and  her  heart 
beat  fast.  She  sat  down  on  one  of  the  high- 
backed,  leather-cushioned  chairs  and  waited.  Af 
ter  a  time  the  boy  came  back. 

"  No,  mistress;  he  isn't  here,  mistress.  He  and 
the  German  man  went  out,  mistress,  and  I  didn't 
see  'em  go,  but  the  servant  maid  she  did  see  'em  ; 
but  she  said  she  hardly  knew  it  was  the  master, 
because  he  had  a  beard  on  him,  and  his  hat  was 
down  over  his  eyes,  but  she  knew  his  curls,  mis 
tress.  She  said  she  did,  and  he's  not  here,  and 
there  aren't  nobody  knows  where  he's  gone,  and  he 
went  secret  like,  but  she  saw  him  from  behind  the 
door." 

Saskia  grew  pale  as  death.  With  difficulty  she 
rose  from  the  chair  and  went  toward  the  door. 
In  a  moment,  however,  her  native  pride  and  strong 
will  nerved  her,  and  indignation  took  the  place  of 
outraged  tenderness.  As  they  went  homeward 
Saskia  said,  "  Cousin,  he  has  insulted  me.  How 
dared  he?  He  knew  I  was  coming,  and  he  has 
gone  away,  and  in  disguise  too,  in  disguise ;  I  will 
never  see  him  again." 

"  Now,  be  not  too  impatient,  Saskia.  You  know 
these  painters  are  strange  folk.  It  may  be  he  had 
some  sudden  commission  that  he  could  not  neg 
lect.  Now,  I  pray  thee,  do  not  give  way  to  anger." 

"  But  in  disguise,  why  in  disguise  ?  I  know  not 
what  this  may  mean,  but  I  do  know  he  has  not 
kept  his  faith  with  me,  and  I  will  see  him  no  more 
— no,  never  again." 

62 


SASKIA'S   PORTRAIT   FORGOTTEN 

"  Calm  yourself,  Cousin  Saskia.  You  may  do 
ill  to  him  and  yourself  if  you  give  way  to  anger." 

"  Be  quiet,  I  pray  thee.  Is  the  daughter  of 
Hombertus  to  be  thus  slighted?  and  that,  too, 
when  she  humbled  herself  to  pose  for  this  painter  ? 
And  he  has  gone,  I  dare  say,  to  some  place  where 
he  would  not  be  known.  It  cannot  be  for  a  good 
purpose.  No  one  disguises  himself  when  his  er 
rand  is  good.  And  he  forgot  me,  he  forgot  me ; 
and  yet  his  eyes  yesterday !  I  see  there  is  some 
woman  whom  he  seeks  to  meet,  and  he  takes  dis 
guise  that  he  may  meet  her  unknown  to  others. 
Ah  !  ah  !  it  is  true.  Go,  then.  Never  again  shalt 
thou  see  Saskia's  face." 

The  maiden  spoke  all  this  almost  to  herself. 
Her  cousin  heard  not  the  half  of  it,  but  Saskia's 
agitation  was  only  too  clear,  and  betrayed  her 
secret  even  to  the  dull  mind  of  Hendrik's  good- 
natured  wife.  She  was  distressed,  as  all  good 
Dutch  wives  are  when  they  see  a  love-affair 
crossed,  but  she  could  do  nothing.  By  this  time 
Saskia  had  become  so  certain  that  Rembrandt 
had  played  her  false  that  she  retired  behind  the 
walls  of  her  pride,  and  not  another  word  would 
she  say.  As  she  became  a  little  cooler  after  the 
first  heat  of  her  anger,  she  knew  well  that  she  had 
betrayed  herself,  and  at  such  a  time,  when  Rem 
brandt  had  not  spoken  one  word  of  love,  though 
his  looks  had  spoken  for  him.  Mortification  fol 
lowed  injured  pride,  and  this  outwardly  light- 
hearted,  but  inwardly  serious,  maiden  was  in  a 
mood  that  boded  ill  for  Rembrandt,  should  he 
venture  now  to  press  his  suit. 

63 


REMBRANDT 

But  Rembrandt  was  thinking  of  nothing  but 
his  prospective  adventure.  With  Albrecht  he 
had  left  the  studio  in  time  to  keep  his  appoint 
ment  with  the  attendant  at  the  meat  market.  He 
was  on  fire.  The  hope  that  by  means  of  this  dis 
guise  he  might  attain  naturalness  in  his  picture, 
such  as  had  not  been  attained  before,  simply  en 
grossed  him.  He  could  think  of  naught  else.  On 
the  way  to  the  meat  market  he  spoke  not  one 
word.  When  he  came  there  the  attendant  was 
awaiting  them. 

After  protesting  feebly,  and  receiving  several 
florins  to  quiet  his  scruples,  Hans  opened  a  little 
door  and  led  them  through  a  secret  passage  lead 
ing  to  the  lecture-room.  It  was  that  by  which 
the  bodies  were  brought  in.  The  painter  and  his 
friend  were  easily  enough  concealed  behind  some 
tapestries  that  hung  on  the  wall  of  the  great 
vaulted  room.  By  separating  the  tapestries  a 
little  it  was  easy  to  see  what  was  going  on,  with 
small  risk  of  discovery. 

"  Now,  Hans,"  said  Albrecht,  "you  will  surely 
come  back  and  let  us  out  when  it  is  all  over." 

"  Surely,  surely,  my  masters.  Have  no  fear, 
but  bide  ye  there  until  I  come."  Off  he  went  in 
some  haste,  for  it  was  nearly  time  to  bring  in  the 
criminal's  body  that  Dr.  Tulp  was  to  dissect  as 
he  lectured  that  day. 

The  young  men  remained  behind  the  hangings, 
Rembrandt  almost  breathless  with  excitement, 
and  even  the  calm  Albrecht  a  good  deal  moved 
by  the  spirit  of  adventure. 

They  had  not  long  to  wait  before  they  heard 
64 


SASKIA'S    PORTRAIT   FORGOTTEN 

the  heavy. tread  of  the  attendants  in  the  passage, 
and  soon  these  entered  bearing  their  ghastly  bur 
den,  which  they  placed  on  a  table  in  the  middle 
of  the  room.  There  was  quite  a  space  immedi 
ately  around  the  table,  and  farther  back  the  floor 
inclined  upward,  so  that  those  behind  might  see. 
There  were  no  chairs.  At  the  foot  of  the  table 
was  a  stand  on  which  had  been  placed  a  large 
volume  bound  in  sheepskin. 

Presently  Dr.  Tulp  entered.  He  wore  a  black 
gown  with  a  broad  white  collar,  a  square-crowned 
black  hat  with  a  very  broad  brim,  and  on  his 
hands  were  gloves  of  deerskin,  with  long  gaunt 
lets.  Behind  him  came  his  pupils.  There  were 
but  seven  of  them,  and  each  of  the  seven  seemed 
almost  as  full  of  thought  as  the  master  himself, 
at  least  so  it  seemed  to  Rembrandt  at  the  first 
glance.  Later,  when  Dr.  Tulp  began  to  talk,  ex 
pound,  and  illustrate  by  skilful  dissection,  he  saw 
that  the  professor  towered  far  above  the  others. 
The  fire  of  intellect  blazed  in  his  eyes.  There  was 
the  majesty  of  knowledge  in  his  broad  white 
brow  and  in  his  noble  bearing.  Dr.  Tulp  stood 
by  the  corpse  and  opened  the  great  volume  which 
was  at  the  foot  of  the  table.  By  turns,  comment 
ing  on  the  text  and  dissecting  the  muscles  and 
tendons  of  the  left  arm,  he  became  more  and  more 
fascinated  with  his  subject,  until  the  listening  doc 
tors  crowded  eagerly  around,  and  each  face  was 
lit  with  kindling  excitement  as  new  facts  were 
told,  demonstrated,  and  grasped.  Here,  then, 
was  the  truth.  Rembrandt  was  nearly  wild  be 
cause  he  could  not  sketch  these  eager  faces  on  the 

65 


REMBRANDT 

spot  in  the  very  midst  of  this  intensity  of  intel 
lectual  concentration.  But  he  felt  it.  With  the 
sympathy  of  genius  he  entered  into  the  thought 
of  these  men,  and  with  the  painter's  unforgetting 
eye  he  saw  the  scene.  He  caught  its  essential 
elements  in  meaning,  and  in  form  and  color  also. 
It  is  doubtful  whether  he  could  have  painted  the 
picture  which  was  so  soon  to  mark  an  era  in 
Dutch  art  had  he  not  thus,  unseen  himself,  studied 
his  subject  as  it  really  was  in  life. 

As  the  lecture  proceeded,  Rembrandt  became 
more  and  more  fascinated.  He  could  not  see  as 
clearly  as  he  wished  through  the  little  opening 
between  the  hangings,  and  at  last,  forgetting 
everything  but  his  subject,  he  bent  forward,  and 
his  whole  head  appeared  in  the  room.  Naturally, 
it  was  rather  startling  to  Dr.  Tulp  and  his  pupils 
to  see  the  head  of  a  stranger  thus  suddenly  emerge 
from  the  tapestries.  It  was  an  age  of  conspira 
cies.  Murder  was  common.  Perhaps  this  man 
concealed  there  was  some  friend  of  the  criminal 
resenting  this  insult  to  his  body  and  seeking  ven 
geance.  None  recognized  Rembrandt  because  of 
the  disguise.  There  was  a  sudden  call  for  help, 
and  all  started  for  the  door,  but  Rembrandt,  see 
ing  he  was  discovered,  came  out  from  behind  the 
hangings,  and  tearing  off  the  false  beard  and  mus 
tache,  approached  Dr.  Tulp. 

"  You  know  me  now,  my  friend,  I  am  sure," 
he  said.  "  I  am  Rembrandt.  You  sent  me  the 
commission  to  paint  a  picture  which  you  would 
give  the  Surgeons'  Guild,  and  I  agreed  to  paint  it, 
but  when  I  came  to  think  about  it  I  could  not  see 

66 


SASKIA'S   PORTRAIT   FORGOTTEN 

my  way  clear  to  paint  it  true  to  the  life  unless  I 
could  see  and  hear  you  and  your  pupils  at  your 
work  as  you  really  are.  Forgive  me,  my  friend. 
It  was  unworthy  of  me  to  deceive  you,  but,  be 
lieve  me,  the  purpose  was  a  good  one,  and  I  have 
learned  what  I  came  for.  I  am  ready  to  paint 
you  all  now.  Will  you  forgive  me?" 

Dr.  Tulp  and  the  others  had  stopped  at  Rem 
brandt's  first  word,  and  looked  upon  him  with  as 
tonishment,  and  some  were  gravely  offended,  for 
it  was  a  serious  matter  thus  to  intrude  upon  the 
privacy  of  a  dissecting-room. 

Rembrandt's  plea,  however,  mollified  them,  for 
it  touched  their  self-esteem,  showing  as  it  did  how 
highly  the  painter  valued  the  subject  that  he  had 
been  called  upon  to  paint,  and  what  close  study 
of  it  seemed  to  him  needful. 

"  My  friend  Rembrandt,"  said  Dr.  Tulp,  with 
dignity,  "  you  do  right  to  ask  forgiveness,  for 
you  have  violated  our  rules,  and  must,  I  fear 
me,  have  bribed  our  attendants,  else  could  you 
never  have  gained  entrance  here.  It  would  seem 
that  the  picture  might  have  been  painted  without 
resort  to  such  means." 

"  Indeed,  indeed  it  could  not,"  interrupted 
Rembrandt. 

"  Pardon,  my  friend,"  said  the  doctor.  "  I  was 
about  to  say  that  in  some  cases  the  end  justifies 
the  means.  Let  it  be  so  in  this  case.  If  you  have 
taken  us  unawares,  be  sure  that  you  paint  a  pict 
ure  that  will  surprise  the  world." 

"  My  dear  Dr.  Tulp,"  said  Rembrandt,  "  I  have 
another  boon  to  ask.  You  have  forgiven  me. 

67 


REMBRANDT 

Will  you  please  not  search  for  the  attendant  who 
let  me  in?  I  deceived  him  with  some  story  of 
relationship  to  the  criminal  whose  body  you  were 
dissecting.  Really,  he  is  not  to  blame.  Grant  me 
this,  I  pray." 

By  this  time  the  doctor  was  much  mollified. 
After  all,  there  was  no  great  reason  he  should  be 
offended,  for  it  was  only  admiration  of  his  skill, 
and  a  desire  to  know  it  better,  that  had  caused 
Rembrandt  to  resort  to  such  an  artifice. 

"  Be  it  as  you  will,  Rembrandt.  I  trust  no  harm 
is  done,  and  I  eagerly  await  the  picture.  When 
may  we  come  to  your  studio?" 

"  Thank  you  !  thank  you  !  Come  to-morrow,  if 
you  will — nay,  perhaps  better  the  day  after,  for  I 
must  needs  sketch  roughly  what  I  have  seen  to 
day  before  I  begin  upon  the  portraits." 

"  As  you  will."  The  doctor  and  his  pupils 
moved  with  much  dignity  toward  the  door.  Rem 
brandt  followed  them.  He  had  forgotten  all  about 
Albrecht. 

Meanwhile,  the  poor  German  had  been  keeping 
very  close  behind  the  hangings.  There  was  no 
excuse  for  him  if  he  were  discovered,  and  he  was 
shaking  in  his  shoes — a  foreigner  too — what  on 
earth  would  become  of  him  if  he  were  caught  in 
such  an  act  ?  Drops  of  cold  perspiration  stood 
on  his  brow,  and  the  dreamer  wished  he  had  kept 
on  dreaming,  and  not  embarked  with  this  hare 
brained  Rembrandt  in  such  a  wild  adventure. 

"  And  now  he  has  forgotten  me,  I  suppose,  as 
he  forgets  others,  and  out  he  goes  with  the  doc 
tors,  and  there  is  nothing  left  here  but  the 

63 


SASKIA'S   PORTRAIT  FORGOTTEN 

corpse.  Ugh !  ugh !  Ach !  ach !  I  like  it  not 
at  all." 

There  was,  however,  nothing  to  do  but  wait  for 
the  old  man  to  come  for  him.  He  had  heard  Rem 
brandt  pray  forgiveness  for  the  attendant,  and 
perhaps  the  old  man  would  come  back  as  he  had 
promised.  It  was  not  long  before  the  attendants 
came  back  and  bore  away  the  corpse.  The  old 
man  opened  the  door  for  them  and  shut  it  after 
them,  leaving  Albrecht  alone  in  the  dismal  room. 
Rembrandt  soon  thought  again  of  Albrecht,  but 
he  knew  how  dangerous  it  would  be  to  betray  his 
presence  there.  He  went  on,  therefore,  for  away, 
talking  with  Dr.  Tulp,  until  their  paths  separated, 
then  he  hastened  back,  as  fast  as  he  could,  through 
back  streets  to  the  market,  that  he  might  gain  a 
safe  exit  for  Albrecht  from  his  most  uncomfortable 
position.  The  old  man,  however,  had  not  forgot 
ten  his  promise,  and  as  soon  as  it  seemed  to  him 
safe  he  had  come  back  and  opened  the  door  of  the 
secret  passage  that  the  young  men  might  come 
forth.  Great  was  his  surprise  when  only  one  ap 
peared. 

"  How  now,  how  now  !  my  master  !  What  has 
come  to  the  other  ?  Now  am  I  undone !  They 
will  put  me  in  prison.  Ah !  Alas !  that  doctor 
has  no  mercy." 

"  Hans,  I  pray  you  be  calm,"  said  Albrecht. 
"  No  harm  will  come  to  you.  My  friend  was  dis 
covered  but  I  was  not.  He  discovered  himself 
and  asked  pardon  for  you  and  it  was  given. 

"  Ow  !  ow !  never  again  will  I  be  in  such  a  bad 
business,"  said  the  frightened  Hans.  "  Oh  !  the 

69 


REMBRANDT 

love  of  the  gold  !     Oh  !  the  mischief  of  it!     What 
weak  ones  we  are  !     Alas  !  alas  ! " 

Just  then  Rembrandt  entered  the  market, 
and  the  evil  power  of  the  gold  that  the  old  man 
was  bemoaning  soon  soothed  his  troubled  spirit 
again,  especially  when  he  was  assured  that  no 
harm  would  come  to  him.  The  young  men  be 
took  themselves  in  all  haste  to  the  studio — none 
the  worse  for  the  adventure,  though  Albrecht 
trerrbled  a  little  when  he  thought  how  narrow 
had  been  his  escape  from  really  serious  danger. 


70 


CHAPTER  XI 

Albrecht  Intercedes 

WHEN  the)7  arrived  at  their  home,  Jan  the 
little  boy  who  ground  the  colors  for  Rem 
brandt  and  his  pupils,  opened  the  door,  and,  al 
most  before  they  had  entered,  began  to  blurt  out: 
"  Please,  master,  there  was  one  here,  master,  and 
she  wanted  you,  master,  she  did — she  did — she 
did — and  she  said,  she  said— 

"  What  is  the  matter  with  you,  you  young 
rascal?"  said  Rembrandt.  "Can't  you  tell  me 
plainly  who  it  was?  It  was  a  lady,  I  think  you 
tried  to  say  ?  " 

"  Yes,  master,  a  lady  as  I  said,  and  she  wanted 
— she  wanted —  Ow  —  I  don't  know  what  she 
wanted — but  she  wanted  you." 

"  What  was  the  lady's  name,  you  fool  ?" 

"  Name,  master,  name  ?  Nay,  she  had  no  name. 
I  mean  I  knew  not  her  name ;  but,  master,  I 
know'd  her,  I  did,  'cause  it  was  her  master  was 
painting  in  the  study  down  here  the  other  day." 

"  My  God,  Albrecht,"  said  Rembrandt,  "  what 
have  I  done  ?  It  was  Saskia,  and  I  was  to  paint 
her  and  I  forgot?  Yet  it  was  the  dearest  wish  of 
my  heart  to  look  upon  her  face  again.  What  ails 
me,  friend?  Am  I  losing  my  mind?  Oh!  this 
art !  this  art !  She  is  a  hard  mistress — she  brooks 
no  rival." 

71 


REMBRANDT 

"  I  know  not,  indeed,  what  ails  you,  friend  Rem 
brandt — but  I  do  think  you  are  most  curiously 
forgetful,  and  it  seems  to  me  somewhat  unman 
nerly.  I  give  you  my  word  you  will  find  it  not 
easy  to  make  your  peace  with  the  fair  damsel. 
Slighted  beauty  is  not  easily  pacified.  Forgetful- 
ness  is  but  a  poor  excuse  when  beauty  is  forgot 
ten,  and  perhaps  love,  too.  for  I  must  say  you  are 
powerfully  moved  about  this  matter.  Ho!  Ho! 
I  thought  you  only  wanted  to  paint  her.  Your 
heart  has  flamed  up  right  suddenly,  my  friend. 
It  has  leapt  even  now  straight  into  your  eyes  and 
your  cheeks.  I'm  sorry  for  you,  poor  fellow,  for 
you  are  indeed  in  a  pretty  plight.  Perhaps  it's  a 
judgment  on  you  for  forgetting  me  there  behind 
the  hangings." 

"  Albrecht,  I  beseech  you,  torment  me  no  more. 
I  am  suffering  more  than  I  can  tell  you.  Jan  ! 
What  was  said  to  the  lady  ?  " 

"  Said  to  her  about  what,  master  ?  " 

"  Why  about  me,  of  course,  you  idiot." 

"  Oh  !  ah  !  about  you  ?  Said  to  her  ?  Oh  !  I 
said  naught.  I  know  naught,  but  Gretchen — you 
know — the  maid,  she  was  behind  the  door,  she 
was,  and  she  saw  you  go  out,  she  said,  and  she 
told  the  lady,  she  did,  you'd  gone  and  you  had  a 
false  beard  on,  she  did." 

"  Oh  !  horrible,  this  is  worse  and  worse.  What 
in  the  wide  world  can  Saskia  think  ?  What  pos 
sible  excuse  can  she  make  for  me  ?  Oh !  how 
can  I  ever  make  my  peace?  Tell  me,  Albrecht, 
tell  me  what  to  do." 

"  I  am  deeply  sorry,  my  dear  friend,  for  I  per- 
72 


ALBRECHT  INTERCEDES 

ceive  that  you  are  suffering  as  well  as  ashamed, 
and  it  is  indeed  a  very  delicate  and  difficult  mat 
ter.  I  must  think  it  over.  It  would  be  best,  I 
think,  for  me  to  go  to  Hendrik's  and  see  if  I  can 
learn  aught  of  the  lady's  mood  before  you  venture 
there.  I  shrewdly  guess  she  is  sorely  angered, 
and  it  would  not  be  well  for  you  to  see  her  when 
she  is  in  such  a  mood,  but  I  will  go  thither  and 
find  out." 

"  Thank  you.  Oh !  thank  you.  You  are  in 
deed  a  friend,  Albrecht.  It  is  best  as  you  say. 
The  lady  has  just  cause  for  anger.  Woe  is  me 
that  I  have  given  her  that  cause.  I  would  liever 
have  offended  anyone  else  in  all  the  world  but 
her.  Oh  !  the  selfishness  of  this  art !  " 

Albrecht  departed  forthwith  on  his  friendly 
errand.  Rembrandt  paced  up  and  down  the  room 
for  awhile,  greatly  agitated,  but  in  spite  of  his 
mortification  and  the  growing  power  of  love, 
made  all  the  stronger  by  the  possibility  that  it 
might  not  receive  its  reward,  his  passion  for 
painting  was  still  upon  him,  and  he  went  to  his 
easel  to  make  a  first  sketch  for  the  picture  which 
was  to  make  him  famous. 

Meanwhile,  Albrecht  took  his  slow  way  along 
the  narrow  streets  and  by  the  canals,  where  there 
was  more  light,  but  not  much  more  footpath. 
The  wealth  of  the  Indies  was  about  him  in  the 
ships.  Why !  there  seemed  realized  the  fabulous 
tales  about  the  Spaniard.  The  young  German 
paused  and  looked  about  him.  Almost  he  forgot 
his  errand.  Perhaps  he  would  have  forgotten  it 
altogether,  but  just  then  a  young  woman  passed 

73 


REMBRANDT 

him.  Her  cloak  was  drawn  close  about  her  face, 
and  she  was  clearly  trying  to  conceal  herself  so 
far  as  possible.  Yet  Albrecht  caught  a  glimpse 
of  her  face,  and  in  an  instant  his  dreaming  left 
him.  "  I  saw  that  face  in  St.  Sebald's  church. 
Ever  since  I  have  longed  to  see  it  again.  Who 
can  she  be  ?  I  will  follow  her." 

Herein  was  manifest  unfaithfulness  to  his 
friend's  quest — first  in  the  dreaming  and  now  in 
the  mad  pursuit  of  a  damsel  to  whom  Albrecht 
had  never  said  one  word.  In  one  way,  Albrecht 
was  an  artist.  A  picture  once  seen  was  never  for 
gotten,  and  the  impression  of  a  face  was  still  more 
lasting.  He  followed  the  maiden,  who  walked 
very  quickly,  and,  as  good  luck  would  have  it, 
she  went  direct  toward  Hendrik's  print  shop. 
"By  all  the  saints!"  said  Albrecht,  "but  this  is 
most  curious.  Now,  how  can  such  things  be  ?  I 
wonder  what  that  beauteous  maiden,  whose  face 
gleamed  out  upon  me  in  St.  Sebald's  church,  has 
to  do  with  Hendrik.  No  matter,  I  shall  find  out 
in  a  minute.  Ah!  she  enters  there.  'Tis  well;  I 
follow." 

The  young  girl  went  into  Hendrik's  shop,  still 
keeping  her  cloak  close  drawn  around  her.  Al 
brecht  entered  a  moment  later.  On  seeing  a 
stranger  the  lady  drew  her  cloak  still  closer  about 
her.  She  purchased  one  of  the  Diirer  prints,  which 
Albrecht  himself  had  brought  to  Hendrik,  and 
then  abruptly  left  the  place  without  speaking  one 
word.  Albrecht  did  not  dare  to  follow  her, 
though  he  longed  to  do  so,  for  she  was  alone,  and 
that  was  a  strange  thing  for  a  gentlewoman  of 

74 


ALBRECHT  INTERCEDES 

those  days.  Certainly  she  was  a  gentlewoman. 
None  other  could  so  bear  herself.  There  was  a 
mystery  here. 

"  Hendrik,"  said  Albrecht,  "  know  you  that 
young  woman  ?  " 

"  Nay,  friend  Albrecht,  I  know  her  not.  How 
should  I  know  all  the  women  that  come  in  here? 
Lord  help  you,  man,  do  you  think  I  can  keep 
track  of  the  wenches  that  come  traipsing  along 
the  streets?  " 

"  Silence,  Hendrik  ;  speak  not  disrespectfully 
of  that  young  woman.  She  is  a  lady,  and,  if  I 
mistake  me  not,  high-born,  albeit  she  came  here 
without  an  attendant.  These  are  strange  times, 
friend  Hendrik,  and  it  is  ill  judging  by  appear 
ances.  I  would  see  her  again.  I  am  sure  I 
have  seen  her  once.  I  will  find  her.  She  may 
need  help.  You  ought  to  know  about  her  if 
she  has  been  here  before.  I  am  disgusted  with 
you." 

"Ho!  Ho!  Ho!  Herr  Albrecht !  This  is  too 
much  for  one  day.  Even  a  stupid  Dutchman  like 
me  must  needs  laugh  at  these  love-lorn  maids  and 
lads.  Ho!  Ho!  Ha!  Ha !  why  it's  only  a  little 
while  since  my  cousin  came  here,  angry.  Oh  ! 
How  angry  !  My  good  wife  says  it  is  a  lovers' 
quarrel,  and  God  knows  what  it's  all  about — 
something,  if  I  can  remember,  about  your  scape 
grace  friend  Rembrandt,  the  painter,  having  gone 
off  in  disguise  to  run  away  with  somebody.  Oh  ! 
Lord !  Oh  !  Lord  !  In  the  name  of  all  that's  sen 
sible  and  quiet  and  peaceful  and  agreeable  to 
Dutchmen,  why  should  he  want  to  make  such  a 

75 


REMBRANDT 

turmoil  when,  as  I  verily  believe,  he  might  have 
had  Saskia  for  the  asking  ?" 

"  Thank  you  heartily,  Hendrik.  You  have  re 
called  me  to  myself  and  to  my  errand.  I  have 
come  even  now  from  Rembrandt,  who  is  dis 
tressed  beyond  measure  because  he  forgot  an  ap 
pointment  to  paint  Saskia's  portrait.  She  is  here, 
then,  and  you  say  she  is  very  angry  ?  " 

"  Angry  !  Well,  friend  Albrecht,  you'd  better 
not  approach  her  if  you  come  from  him,  for  surely 
you  would  rue  the  day." 

Just  then  the  door  of  the  shop  was  opened 
quickly  by  a  young  man  who  seemed  to  be  in  a 
state  of  great  excitement.  He  was  one  of  Hen- 
drik's  clerks,  but  his  ambition  was  to  be  a  doctor, 
and  sometimes  he  stole  away  to  the  meat-market 
where  Dr.  Tulp  lectured,  and  talked  with  the  at 
tendants,  seeking  to  learn  what  was  going  on  in 
the  great  school  of  medicine.  He  had  been  there 
this  day,  and  had  heard  all  about  the  finding  of 
Rembrandt  in  the  lecture-room.  He  was  full  to 
brimming  over  with  the  news. 

"  Why  !  Master  Hendrik,"  he  said,  "  what  think 
you  has  happened  ?  The  painter,  Rembrandt, 
whom  you  know  so  well ! — why  he  was  in  dis 
guise,  and  he  was  behind  the  hangings  in  the  lect 
ure-room  and  he  forgot  himself,  and  looked  out 
and  he  was  discovered,  and  Dr.  Tulp  was  much 
offended,  and  it  might  have  gone  hard  with  the 
painter,  but  he  said  he  was  to  paint  the  doctor, 
that  Dr.  Tulp  had  given  him  a  commission  to  do 
it,  and  he  could  not  paint  the  picture  unless  he 
saw  them  at  their  work,  and  they  did  not  know 

76 


ALBRECHT  INTERCEDES 

he  was  there,  and — arid — yes  that  was  it.  He  dis 
guised  himself  that  he  might  not  be  known, 
though  he  hoped  he  would  not  be  found  out,  but 
he  was,  because  of  his  own  fault,  and — and — oh  ! 
what  is  the  rest?  I  don't  know,  they  are  all  ex 
cited — but  Rembrandt  is  forgiven  and  he  has  be 
gun  on  his  picture,  I  think." 

"  This  is  strange  news,"  said  Hendrik  ;  "  what 
mad  prank  will  your  artist  friend  play  next,  I 
wonder.  But,  Albrecht,  a  word  with  you  alone. 
Leave  us,  Casper." 

The  young  man  went  out  somewhat  crestfallen 
because  his  exciting  news  had  not  caused  more 
comment. 

"  You  say,  Albrecht,  that  you  are  come  from 
Rembrandt  to  find  what  Saskia's  mood  is  and  to 
pave  the  way  for  a  meeting  between  them  that 
this  quarrel  may  be  settled.  A  moment  ago  I 
had  not  thought  it  possible,  for  I  heard  her  vow 
she  would  never  see  him  again.  But  it  was  the  dis 
guise  she  was  harping  on.  Now  we  know  why 
he  took  the  disguise.  If  she  knows  that  it  may 
make  a  difference,  though  there  is  still  the  fault 
of  the  forgetfulness  —  but  she  may  forgive  that 
when  she  hears  of  the  great  commission,  and  of 
the  glory  that  may  come  from  it.  What  think 
you,  friend  ?  Would  you  see  her  now  and  tell  her 
oi  these  matters?  " 

"  Indeed,  most  gladly  would  I,"  said  Albrecht, 
"  Methinks  I  see  a  way  to  soften  the  irate  damsel ; 
though  indeed  she  has  just  cause  of  offence.  But, 
Hendrik,  please,  please  find  out  about  the  lady 
who  was  here  but  now." 

77 


REMBRANDT 

"Albrecht,  you  are  forgetting  your  errand.  I 
am  a  blunt  man  and  I  tell  you  you  are  no  true 
friend  if  you  do  not  forget  your  own  affairs  for 
the  time  and  seek  to  smooth  the  way  for  Rem 
brandt.  I  promise  you  it  is  no  easy  matter. 
Here  Casper,"  said  Hendrik,  calling  the  young 
man  whom  he  had  just  sent  away.  "  Go  up  to 
Mistress  Saskia's  room  and  tell  her  there  is  one 
here  who  would  fain  speak  with  her  on  a  matter 
of  great  import." 

The  young  man  went  and  soon  returned  saying 
that  Saskia  would  receive  the  visitor.  Albrecht 
accordingly  went  up  the  narrow  stair  and  finding 
an  open  door  in  a  little  passage,  entered,  and  was 
received  with  great  dignity  by  Saskia,  who  had 
become  perfectly  calm  and  icily  cold  the  moment 
she  looked  at  Albrecht's  face.  She  suspected  his 
purpose  as  she  looked  at  him,  and  was  on  her 
guard  immediately. 

"  Greetings  from  the  heart  to  you,  fair  lady  ?  " 
said  the  courtly  German. 

"  I  thank  you  and  give  greeting  to  you  also, 
Herr  von  Stoltzing.  You  are  very  welcome.  Sit 
ye  down.  Take  yonder  chair  with  the  cushion. 
It  is  easier  than  those  carved,  straight-backed  en 
emies  of  comfort." 

"  I  thank  you,  Mistress  von  Ulenburg,"  said 
Albrecht,  seating  himself  in  an  upholstered  chair, 
whose  covering  was  of  Flemish  tapestry.  Al 
brecht  was  greatly  embarrassed.  He  hardly 
knew  how  to  begin.  Indeed,  his  errand  was  a 
delicate  and  difficult  one,  and  the  lady's  cold  man 
ner  was  by  no  means  reassuring. 

78 


ALBRECHT  INTERCEDES 

"  The  weather  is  unpleasant  to-day,  Herr  von 
Stoltzing.  I  fear  you  will  not  like  our  Dutch 
climate.  It  must  be  a  most  unpleasant  contrast 
to  the  sunshine  of  the  Rhineland  and  Nuremberg. 
The  sun  is  niggardly  with  his  rays  here  in  Hol 
land." 

"  Nay,  lady,  I  care  not  about  it.  Not  at  all,  oh, 
not  at  all.  It  is  a  beautiful  climate,  oh,  most  beau 
tiful." 

"  But,  my  dear  sir,"  said  Saskia,  laughing  heart 
ily,  "  surely  you  know  not  what  you  are  saying. 
Why,  it  is  raining  enough  to  drown  you,  and  we 
have  not  seen  the  sun  for  a  week." 

"  Yes,  yes,  that  is  true  indeed.  I  had  forgotten 
about  the  rain.  Yes,  truly,  it  is  raining  ;  but  there 
might  be  worse  things  than  rain,  you  know.  Me- 
thinks  the  climate  is  good,  and  I  care  not  whether 
it  is  or  no.  I  crave  pardon,  mistress — in  truth  I 
was  not  thinking  about  it,  and  I  fear  I  am  rude — 
but  there  is  a  matter  whereof  I  would  fain  speak 
with  you.  I  come  with — I  am  the  bearer  of — nay, 
I  would  explain  something  to  you  in  which  my 
friend  Rembrandt  has  deep  interest." 

"  Do  you  mean  you  are  here  as  a  messenger  to 
me  from  the  painter  Rembrandt?" 

"  Yes,  yes,  I  suppose  that  is  it.  I  hardly  know 
what  I  am,  or  where  I  am,  but  I  think  that  must 
be  true." 

"  Then  get  you  hence  directly,"  said  Saskia. 
"  He  has  insulted  me,  and  I  will  have  naught  to 
do  with  him  or  his  messenger.  He  makes  it  all 
the  worse  by  sending  one  in  his  place  because  he 
chared  not  come  himself.  I  despise  him." 

79 


REMBRANDT 

"  Pardon  me — one  word  I  beg.  There  is  some 
thing  here  not  understood,  and  I  must  explain  it. 
You  must  listen  to  me.  I  will  not  see  unhappi- 
ness  come  from  such  a  trifling  matter,  and  I  know 
that  Rembrandt  is  breaking  his  heart  about  it." 

Saskia's  face  softened  a  little  as  these  words 
were  spoken,  and  she  said,  in  a  more  gentle  tone, 
"  Go  on,  then,  I  will  listen  to  you.  I  do  not  wish 
to  be  unjust." 

"  Most  dear  and  honored  lady,  I  do  not  wish  my 
friend  to  be  misunderstood,  for  I  love  him  and 
value  his  happiness  as  I  do  my  own.  It  is  true 
that  he  has  given  you  grievous  cause  of  offence 
in  that  he  forgot  his  appointment,  but  surely  there 
was  some  excuse,  because  on  the  day  before  he 
received  the  most  important  commission  of  his 
life — to  paint  Dr.  Tulp  and  his  pupils  in  a  Doelen 
picture  that  the  doctor  wanted  to  give  to  the 
Surgeons'  Guild,  and  his  brain  was  fairly  on  fire 
with  it.  I  verily  believe  he  forgot  his  own  exist 
ence,  almost  forgot  everything  but  the  picture, 
and  how  best  to  paint  it." 

"  Oh,  has  he  indeed  received  such  a  commis 
sion?  "  said  Saskia,  eagerly,  her  interest  overcom 
ing  for  the  moment  her  offended  pride. 

"  Indeed  he  has,  Mistress  von  Ulenburg,  and 
he  was  ingenious  enough  to  devise  a  way  of  get 
ting  himself  in  disguise  into  the  hall  where  the 
doctor  lectures,  that  he  might  see  and  hear  the 
doctor  and  his  pupils  unknown  to  them,  and  he 
succeeded,  nor  would  he  have  been  discovered 
except  for  his  own  impetuosity.  He  became  so 
excited  that  he  leaned  out  from  behind  the  hang- 
So 


ALBRECHT  INTERCEDES 

ings,  and  then  there  was  a  terrible  time.  As  he 
was  disguised,  no  one  knew  him,  and  they  thought 
it  was  some  conspiracy.  So  he  had  to  take  off  his 
disguise  and  explain  the  matter,  and  the  doctor 
forgave  him." 

Saskia's  face  brightened  at  once  as  she  heard 
the  story  of  the  disguise  ;  but  her  pride  had  pos 
sessed  her  again,  and  she  would  admit  no  interest 
in  the  matter.  Nevertheless,  Albrecht  was  shrewd 
enough  to  see  that  he  had  made  an  impression 
upon  her. 

"  Indeed,  indeed,  how  very  ingenious.  Yes, 
they  told  me  he  had  gone  away  in  disguise.  It 
seemed  a  strange  prank  to  play.  I  understood  it 
not.  I  am  glad  to  hear  about  it.  I  trust  the  pict 
ure  will  be  a  good  one." 

"  May  I  tell  Rembrandt  that  he  is  forgiven  ?  " 

"  You  may  tell  him  nothing  of  the  kind.  What 
matters  it?  Why,  this  artist  is  so  engrossed  that 
it  would  not  interest  him  one  way  or  the  other. 
What  is  the  use  of  troubling  him  with  such  trifles  ? 
He  would  forget  all  about  it  the  minute  after  you 
told  him." 

"Nay,  nay,  truly  it  is  not  so.  You  know  him 
not.  It  is  true  he  forgets  everything  but  his  work 
sometimes,  but  his  heart  is  true,  and  it  is  true  to 
you,  as  I  believe." 

"What  say  you,  sir?  Methinks  in  matters  of 
the  heart,  if  such  are  here  involved,  it  would  be 
better  for  the  party  in  interest  to  speak  for  him 
self.  You  are  somewhat  officious,  Herr  von  Stolt- 
zing,  and  I  think  this  conversation  has  lasted  quite 
long  enough." 

81 


REMBRANDT 

"  Ah,  ah  !  he  may  speak  for  himself,  then,"  said 
Albrecht,  delighted.  "  That  privilege  will  be  dear, 
indeed.  Pardon  me  if  I  have  offended,  I  thought 
not  of  myself.  It  was  my  friend's  cause  I  had  at 
heart.  Thank  you  for  that  word,  '  he  may  speak 
for  himself.'  That  will  bring  joy  to  his  heart." 

"  I  said  not  that  I  would  see  him,"  said  Saskia, 
somewhat  confused.  "  I  said  only  that  a  man 
should  plead  his  own  cause." 

"  You  will  see  him,  you  will,  I  am  sure.  Your 
heart  is  kind.  You  are  not  cruel.  I  will  tell  him 
all." 

"  Tell  the  truth,  sir,  and  no  more  than  the  truth," 
said  Saskia,  rising  and  speaking  still  with  dignity. 
She  knew  she  was  half-conquered  and  she  knew 
why.  Her  heart  had  been  on  Albrecht's  side,  and 
then,  too,  Rembrandt  could  not  have  chosen  a 
better  envoy.  Albrecht's  gentle  nature  made  him 
an  admirable  peace-maker. 

He  saluted  Saskia  most  courteously  and  left 
her.  His  spirits  were  light  because  he  had  suc 
ceeded.  He  paused  a  moment  in  the  shop,  and 
said  to  Hendrik,  "  I  think  all  will  be  well.  The 
lady  is  not  made  of  stone — but,  friend  Hendrik, 
forget  not  about  the  lady  who  was  here  when  i 
came.  Find  out,  I  pray  thee,  who  she  is,  for  surely 
I  must  and  will  see  her  again.  Farewell." 


82 


CHAPTER   XII 

Too  Late 

A  LBRECHT  went  joyfully  back  to  the  studio 
•L\.  in  the  warehouse.  He  was  the  bearer  of  good 
news,  and  his  own  heart  was  fluttering  like  a  caged 
bird.  That  face,  that  exquisite  face,  those  deep 
blue  eyes,  that  brown  hair  that  rippled  softly  over 
the  low  white  brow — it  was  the  face  of  his  dreams 
seen  once  in  St.  Sebald's  Church,  never  forgotten, 
and  now  seen  again  in  this  foreign  city !  Ah,  he 
would  find  her !  He  would  be  no  laggard  in  love. 
Would  that  his  quest  were  even  now  begun,  but 
his  errand  of  friendship  must  first  be  done. 

He  found  Rembrandt  where  he  had  left  him,  be 
fore  his  easel,  on  which  was  a  sketch  for  the  anat 
omy  lesson  nearly  completed.  It  was  so  masterly, 
so  original,  that  Albrecht  started  back  in  amaze 
ment  and  admiration.  Almost  he  forgot  those 
tender  love-affairs  that  had  so  engrossed  him,  and 
for  a  moment  was  nearly  as  absorbed  in  the  power 
of  the  picture  as  the  master  himself. 

"  Good  God  !  What  a  masterpiece  !  "  he  said, 
half  aloud.  He  might  as  well  have  spoken  at  the 
top  of  his  voice,  Rembrandt  had  not  heard  the 
door  open,  nor  was  he  conscious  of  Albrecht's 
presence.  He  went  on,  and  on,  with  sure  touch, 
every  stroke  true,  and  tellingly  effective.  Albrecht 

83 


REMBRANDT 

himself  felt  the  spell  of  the  painter's  genius  so 
strongly  upon  him  that  for  a  time  he  spoke  not  a 
word,  but  breathlessly  watched  the  hand  of  the 
master  until  the  sketch,  already  nearly  done,  was 
quite  completed. 

Then  Rembrandt  started  back  from  his  canvas, 
and  backed  straight  into  Albrecht,  who  was  stand 
ing  close  behind  him. 

"  Ha !  What's  this!  who's  here?"  said  the 
painter,  like  one  suddenly  startled  out  of  a  dream. 
"  Oh !  it's  you,  Albrecht !  I  knew  not  you  were 
here.  I  have  made  my  sketch,  friend.  What  think 
you  of  it?  Is  not  the  life  there  ?  " 

"  It  is  a  masterpiece,  Rembrandt.  But  have  you 
naught  else  to  ask  me  ?  " 

"  By  all  that  is  dear  and  tender,  yes,  I  have,  and 
much.  Did  you  see  her?  What  said  she?  Is 
there  any  hope?  Is  she  as  beautiful  and  merry 
and  gracious  as  before?  Oh!  Albrecht,  hasten 
man,  what  on  earth  ails  you  ?  In  heaven's  name 
speak  on,  speak  quickly,  I  can't  wait,  speak,  I  say." 

"  Softly,  softly,  Herr  Painter.  I  can't  talk  while 
you  are  talking,  and  I  can't  answer  fifty  questions 
at  once,  and  I  didn't  think  a  minute  ago  you 
seemed  so  impatient  about  my  tidings.  Now  it 
seems  you  have  a  little  interest  in  them.  Verily  I 
thought  you  had  forgotten  all  about  me,  and  per 
haps  about  the  lady  too.  May  it  please  your  high 
mightiness,  I'll  take  my  time;  I'm  somewhat  out 
of  breath  and  I  want  a  horn  of  beer." 

"  Curses  on  your  beer  !  Jan,  Ho  !  there,  a  horn 
of  beer  for  Herr  Albrecht,  and  some  cheese  and  a 
sausage.  Eat  and  drink  if  you  needs  must — but 

84 


TOO  LATE 

for  the  Lord's  sake,  man,  tell  me  what  she  said,  and 
what  you  did.  Tell  me,  I  say,  tell  me  quickly." 

"  Very  well,  then,  since  you  are  so  eager.  Sit 
ye  down  yonder.  Ah !  thanks,  Jan."  As  the  lad 
brought  in  the  refreshments.  "  That  is  very  good." 
Albrecht  sat  down  and  took  a  long  draught  from 
the  great  drinking-horn,  while  Rembrandt  strode 
up  and  down  quite  overcome  by  impatience  that 
was  fast  rising  to  anger. 

"  Well,  man;  will  you  never  have  done  drinking 
and  eating  ?  Perhaps  you  will  deign,  after  awhile, 
to  tell  me  what  she  said  and  how  she  looked." 

"Yes,  yes,  pardon  I  beg.  I  see  now  your  impa 
tience,  though  upon  my  honor  it  was  not  notice 
able  when  I  came  in.  She's  very  angry,  Rem 
brandt,  and  none  knows  better  than  yourself  that 
she  has  good  cause  to  be." 

"  I  know  that.  Fool  that  I  was  to  treat  her 
thus!  But  is  there  hope  still?  Albrecht,  tell  me, 
is  there  no  kindness  left  and  no  forgiveness  ?  " 

"  Now  it  is  very  hard  to  tell  about  that.  You  see, 
my  friend,  I  don't  understand  women  very  well. 
I  always  told  you  I  was  a  dreamer,  even  about 
art,  which  I  love  best  of  all  things  in  the  world. 
You  should  have  sent  someone  else  on  such  an 
errand,  for  it  was  not  an  easy  one,  I  promise  you. 
Ah  !  but  that  is  fine  beer,"  said  Albrecht,  empty 
ing  the  horn. 

"  Tell  me  what  she  said.  Trifle  with  me  no 
longer.  This  is  no  jesting  matter." 

"  Patience.  Now  what  did  she  say  ?  Oh,  I  re 
member,  she  said  you  ought  to  come  to  plead 
your  own  cause  and  not  send  another." 

85 


REMBRANDT 

"Did  she  indeed  say  that?"  said  Rembrandt. 
"Ah,  then,  there  is  hope.  She  will  see  me,  and 
that  is  nearly  like  forgiveness." 

"  She  did  not  say  she  would  see  you,  and  she 
was  very  angry,  and  she  may  be  angry  again  when 
she  thinks  over  what  she  said,  but  you  must  go 
yourself  next  time.  I've  had  all  I  want  of  it,  yes, 
and  more  than  enough.  I  was  so  embarrassed  be 
fore  her  that  my  tongue  clove  to  the  roof  of  my 
mouth,  and  I  thought  I  could  not  say  anything; 
indeed,  I  don't  well  remember  what  I  did  say,  but 
I  know  I  blurted  out  something,  and  I  do  well  re 
member  that  at  the  end  she  said  that  about  your 
pleading  your  own  cause.  Go  your  ways  to  her 
straightway,  and  the  devil  take  me  if  I  mix  in  your 
matters  after  this.  I've  enough  of  my  own  to  look 
after." 

"Oho!  Oho!  you  have,  have  you?  Are  you 
too  caught  in  the  fatal  meshes  of  love's  net  ?  Me- 
thinks,  friend  Albrecht,  there  is  an  unwonted 
activity  about  you  ;  I  have  but  now  noticed  it ; 
but  I  should  have  seen  it  before  had  I  not  been  so 
engrossed  in  my  own  affairs.  Tell  me,  who  is  the 
lovely  lady  who  has  so  suddenly  aroused  my 
German  dreamer?" 

"  Nay,  Rembrandt,  I  cannot  tell  you,  for  I  know 
not  myself.  All  I  know  is  that  she  is  the  most 
beautiful  woman  the  sun  ever  shone  upon,  and  I 
am  sure  she  is  the  loveliest." 

"  Hold  on,  friend,"  said  Rembrandt.  "  Have 
done  with  your  wild  talk.  You  must  be  verily 
mad  with  love  to  use  such  words  when  you  have 
just  come  from  Saskia's  presence." 

86 


TOO  LATE 

"  Oh  !  I  beg  your  pardon,"  said  Albrecht.  "  I 
meant  not  to  hurt  your  feelings  ;  but  really  tell  me, 
have  you  seen  her  of  whom  I  speak  ?  Can  you 
tell  me  aught  of  her?  She  seems  a  stranger  here. 
1  saw  her  once  in  St.  Sebald's  Church,  and  I  have 
seen  her  in  my  dreams  ever  since.  Tell  me,  do 
you  know  her?  " 

Rembrandt  burst  into  a  fit  of  hearty  laughter, 
and  when  at  last  his  mirth  subsided  he  said : 
"  Never  saw  I  the  like  of  this.  I  have  heard  of 
the  folly  of  lovers,  but  this  goes  beyond  belief. 
How  in  the  name  of  all  that  is  sensible  can  I  have 
the  least  idea  of  whom  you  are  talking?  Because 
her  beauty,  as  you  say,  has  overcome  you,  you 
seem  to  think  all  the  world  is  possessed  by  it,  and 
the  impression  of  this  peerless  damsel's  face  would 
never  be  forgotten  by  any  who  might  chance  to 
see  her.  Ha!  ha!  my  sides  ache  with  laughing. 
But  never  mind,  I  go  direct  to  Hendrik's,  and  if 
anyone  knows  about  this  wandering  maiden  it 
would  surely  be  he.  I  owe  you  something,  for 
you  have  done  me  a  good  turn,  and  I  will  find 
out,  if  I  can,  about  her." 

"  Thank  you  from  my  heart,"  said  Albrecht,  with 
some  confusion.  "  I  was  very  foolish,  as  you  say. 
I — I  did  not  think.  I  thought  perhaps  you  might 
have  seen  her.  Oh  !  I  don't  know  what  I  did 
think.  But  have  done  with  your  laughing.  There 
are  serious  matters  here  for  both  of  us.  You  need 
not  be  too  sure  that  Saskia  will  see  you  I  did 
not  say  she  would,  but  I  think  perhaps  she  may." 

"  I  will  see  her,"  said  Rembrandt,  "  and  di 
rectly." 

87 


REMBRANDT 

He  donned  the  broad-brimmed  black  hat  which 
he  habitually  wore,  and  threw  a  long  black  cloak 
about  his  shoulders.  Then  he  strode  toward  the 
door  with  impetuous  haste. 

"  Forget  not  my  errand,  friend,  I  pray  thee," 
said  Albrecht.  "  I  fear  you  will  think  of  naught 
else  but  Saskia." 

"  Nay,  I  will  not  forget,"  said  Rembrandt.  "  I 
am  not  quite  so  heartless  as  you  think.  I  will  try 
to  do  for  you  even  as  you  did  for  me.  Farewell." 

Rembrandt  followed  the  road  that  Albrecht  had 
taken,  threading  the  narrow  streets,  overshadowed 
by  the  gabled  houses  which  leant  toward  each 
other,  and  taking  at  times  the  broader  and  more 
open  ways  by  the  banks  of  the  canals.  At  last  he 
reached  Hendrik's  shop.  He  was  filled  with  the 
ardor  of  a  great  passion,  now  fully  known  to  his 
heart,  and  the  glory  and  the  joy  of  it  quite  trans 
formed  him.  His  face  was  radiant  as  he  reached 
forth  his  hand  to  Hendrik  and  said,  abruptly,  as 
was  his  habit :  "  Where  is  Saskia  ?  I  would  see  her." 

"Well !  well  !  friend  Rembrandt,,  you  seem  im 
patient.  Ah,  I  see.  Youth  and  love  brook  no  wait 
ing.  Right  sorry  am  1,  friend,  to  say  she  is  not 
here,  but  it  is  true.  She  left  here  but  now,  and  I 
think  she  has  gone  to  Franeker  to  see  her  sister 
Antje,  who  has  not  been  well  of  late." 

"Oh!  by  all  the  gods,  I  curse  my  folly.  Why 
-came  I  not  instead  of  sending  Albrecht?  Fool 
'that  I  am  !  Selfish  brute  that  I  am  !  It  may  be 
'that  I  have  lost  her.  Hendrik,  was  she  angry 
when  she  went?  Saw  you  her  face?  Said  she 
aught  of  me  ?  " 

88 


TOO  LATE 

"  Now,  now  be  calm,  Rembrandt.  You  are  al 
ways  sizzling  and  sputtering  like  a  potato  in  a 
frying-pan.  Can't  you  wait  a  day  or  two  to  see 
the  lady  ?  I  believe  it  would  be  better  for  you. 
Her  face,  you  say  ?  and  did  she  seem  angry?  I 
am  no  ladies'  man.  I  am  only  blunt  Hendrik.  1 
have  a  good  eye  for  prints,  but  a  poor  one  for  fair 
ladies'  looks.  F  faith  though,  friend,  I  believe  she 
did  look  sober,  and  now,  let  me  see — yes,  methinks 
I  did  see  her  cheeks  were  red  and  her  eyes  were 
brighter  than  common.  But  she  said  naught  of 
you.  I  know  not  what  excited  her.  Perhaps  it 
was  the  print-seller's  visit — the  young  man  from 
Nuremberg.  He  was  here  a  long  time.  Does  he 
love  her,  too?  Nay,  though,  I  think  not,  for  he 
seemed  to  care  much  about  another  one,  who  was 
here  when  he  came." 

"  Talk  not  nonsense,  Hendrik.  Albrecht,  came 
on  my  errand  to  Saskia.  Would  that  I  had  come 
myself!  How  long  will  she  stay  at  Franeker  ?  " 

"  Indeed,  I  know  not;  but  some  little  time,  I  do 
believe,  for  her  sister  is  ailing,  as  I  said." 

"  Oh,  this  is  cruel.  I  must  wait  then,  and  this 
misunderstanding  still  between  us.  I  cannot  leave 
here  now,  for  Dr.  Tulp  comes  to  the  studio  to 
morrow,  and  I  must  paint  him  for  my  lesson  in 
anatomy.  Flow  can  I  keep  calm  enough  to  paint 
at  all?" 

"  Now,  look  you  here,  friend  Rembrandt,  I  am 
not  very  wise,  I  know,  but  I  am  married,  and  1 
must  needs  know  more  about  women  than  you 
do,  and  I  tell  you,  friend,  Saskia  has  been  angry 
with  you,  and  she  is  not  yet  willing,  as  I  think,  to 

89 


REMBRANDT 

see  you.  The  best  thing  you  can  do,  believe  me, 
is  to  paint  this  picture.  You  know  what  I  think 
of  your  work.  I  am  sure  it  will  make  you  famous. 
You  will  be  the  talk  of  the  town,  and  when  Saskia 
comes  back  she  will  hear  your  name  from  all  and 
she  will  be  touched.  Oh  !  these  women  love 
great  and  strong  men  !  Now,  do  take  my  advice. 
Go  paint  your  picture  and  put  in  it  all  your  genius. 
It  will  plead  your  cause  better  than  you  can  do  just 
now.  That's  a  long  speech,  and  a  very  artful  one 
for  plain  Hendrik.  I  couldn't  have  said  so  much 
except  because  I  love  you." 

"  Perhaps  you  are  right,  my  friend,  but  it  is  a 
weary  waiting." 

"  Come  back  here  in  the  dining-room,  and  have 
a  bumper  of  Rhenish  to  refresh  you  after  your 
walk,  and  your  disappointment." 

"  Nay,  I  care  naught  for  the  wine — but  hold, 
on  second  thought  I  believe  I  will  go  with  you, 
for  there  is  another  matter  of  which  I  would 
speak  to  you.  I  had  almost  forgotten  it;  Al- 
brecht  said  I  would  forget,  but  I  have  not. 
Come,  I  am  with  you." 

The  two  went  into  the  dining-room,  which  was 
just  back  of  the  shop.  The  living-rooms  were 
above.  It  was  the  custom  for  the  Dutch  mer 
chants,  even  of  so  high  a  class  as  Hendrik,  to 
live  in  their  place  of  business,  nor  did  that  mean 
that  the  living-rooms  were  not  often  very  beau 
tiful  and  luxurious.  Hendrik's  dining-room, 
although  it  opened  out  of  the  shop,  was  a  most 
beautiful  room.  It  was  wainscoted  two-thirds 
of  the  way  to  the  raftered  ceiling  and  the  wains- 
go 


TOO  LATE 

coting  was  of  Spanish  oak.  Above,  reaching  to 
the  rafters,  was  gilded  Spanish'  leather,  in  that 
day  thought  to  be  the  most  splendid  wall  decora 
tion,  unless  the  finest  tapestries  might  be  ex- 
cepted.  There  were  some  beautiful  glasses  from 
Bohemia  and  Venice  on  the  chimney-piece. 
Hendrik  took  down  two  of  these,  and  set  them 
on  the  massive  dining-table  with  great  richly 
carved  legs  that  bulged  out  so  much  at  the  top 
as  to  make  those  who  sat  near  them  somewhat 
uncomfortable. 

Presently  the  servant-maid  brought  the  wine, 
and  with  it  the  inevitable  sausage. 

"  Rembrandt,"  said  Hendrik.  "  Not  one  word 
until  you  have  tasted  my  Rhenish.  Nov/,  I  don't 
know  much  except  about  prints,  but  I  know  a 
good  Rhenish.  Ha!  ha!  you  are  lucky  to  have 
a  glass  of  it.  It  was  sent  me  down  the  Rhine  by 
a  German  from  Sternberg.  He  had  bought  a 
print  from  me  and  could  not  pay — but.  by  my 
troth,  friend,  the  wine  is  much  better  than  the 
print.  Pledge  me  in  a  bumper,  Rembrandt,  and 
then  you  can  talk  all  you  please." 

"  Well,  then !  here's  your  health  !  "  and  Rem 
brandt  raised  the  beautiful  glass  and  took  a  little 
of  the  wine,  which  was,  indeed,  of  a  royal  vintage. 
"  You  praised  it  not  too  much,  Hendrik.  It  is  a 
noble  wine.  Now,  I  promised  Albrecht  I  would 
ask  you  about  the  young  woman  he  saw  here. 
She  seemed  a  stranger.  Know  you  aught  of 
her?" 

"  He  asked  me  himself  to  find  out  about  her. 
I  suppose  he  forgot  that.  Nay,  I  know  nothing. 

91 


REMBRANDT 

I  don't  go  following  people  about  the  streets.  I 
sell  her  a  print  and  she  takes  it  and  goes.  She 
pays  for  it  and  all  is  well  ;  what  care  I  about  the 
wench." 

"  But  you  can  find  out,  Hendrik.  You  care 
for  me  and  for  Albrecht,  even  if  you  do  not  care 
for  her.  If  she  comes  again  let  her  be  followed 
and  her  dwelling-place  discovered.  Albrecht 
would  see  her.  It  is  of  deep  importance  to  him." 

"  Ah,  well.  It's  too  bad  to  trouble  me  with 
such  matters.  I'm  no  match-maker.  But  be  it 
as  you  say.  I  can  tell  this  much — she  is  a  Ger 
man,  and  she  has  not  been  long  in  Amsterdam. 
Why  she  came  I  know  not,  nor  know  I  her  name 
—but  I  will  do  my  best  and  I  will  send  you  word 
when  I  have  anything  to  tell." 

"  Thanks,  kind  Hendrik,  and  now  I  must  go. 
It  is  late,  and  I  must  prepare  for  the  work  of  to 
morrow." 


CHAPTER   XIII 

The  Anatomy  Lesson  Begun 

EMBRANDT  went  home  with  a  heavy  heart. 
-LV  Saskia's  sudden  departure  filled  him  with 
misgivings,  for  well  he  knew  she  had  gone  that 
she  might  avoid  a  meeting  with  him.  Nor  had 
he  cheerful  news  for  his  friend  Albrecht.  Never 
theless  his  face  brightened  as  he  thought  of  Hen- 
drik's  advice.  Yes!  he  would  paint  the  picture 
with  all  his  might.  He  would  make  his  name  a 
household  word  in  Amsterdam,  and  Saskia  should 
hear  of  it  and  be  proud  and  her  heart  would  be 
satisfied.  Cheered  by  this  thought  the  painter 
strode  on,  so  absorbed  in  his  dreams  that  he  took 
no  heed  of  anything  about  him.  It  was  dusk  as 
he  neared  the  studio.  Just  before  he  reached  it 
a  young  woman  passed  him.  As  she  saw  him  she 
drew  her  cloak  closely  about  her  face  and  walked 
onward  more  rapidly.  Rembrandt  turned  and 
looked  at  her  receding  figure.  There  was  some 
thing  about  her  that  awakened  interest.  Her 
bearing  was  different  from  that  of  the  ordinary 
Dutch  girls,  and  then  it  was  strange  that  she 
should  be  out  alone  as  evening  drew  near,  if  she 
was  a  lady,  and  she  certainly  seemed  to  be.  In  an 
instant  it  flashed  upon  his  mind  that  possibly  this 
was  the  same  mysterious  lady  who  had  captivated 

93 


REMBRANDT 

Albrecht,  and  quick  as  thought  Rembrandt  turned 
and  followed  her.  "I  will  at  least  see  her  face," 
he  thought,  "  and  then  I  can  tell,  that  is,  if  she  is 
as  beautiful  as  he  says." 

The  lady  walked  quickly,  but  Rembrandt  gained 
upon  her,  and  soon  came  so  near  that  she  heard 
his  steps  and  knew  that  she  was  followed.  She 
quickened  her  pace  almost  to  a  run,  but  it  was  of 
no  avail,  for  the  artist  was  already  at  her  side. 

Seeing  that  escape  was  hopeless  she  turned  and 
faced  her  pursuer  with  perfect  dignity  and  cour 
age. 

Out  of  the  gathering  dusk  flashed  upon  Rem 
brandt  one  of  the  most  beautiful  faces  he  had 
ever  seen.  Had  it  not  been  that  his  heart  was  full 
of  Saskia  he  would  have  said  that  never  had  he 
seen  such  beauty. 

"  Who  are  you,  sir,  that  dare  follow  me  in  this 
unmannerly  way?  Would  you  affright  a  lonely 
maiden  ?  You  seem  a  gentleman,  albeit  you  are 
not  acting  as  beseems  noble  blood.  Leave  me  at 
once  or  1  will  call  the  guard."  This  would  not 
have  been  difficult,  for  they  were  near  the  Dam, 
and  the  guard-house  of  the  Civil  Guard  was  close 
at  hand. 

"  I  humbly  crave  your  pardon,  fair  lady,"  said 
Rembrandt.  "  Upon  my  honor  I  meant  you  no 
harm,  but  I  thought  perhaps  you  might  be  the 
lady  who  was  in  Hendrik's  print-store  this  morn 
ing,  the  one  whom  my  dearest  friend  Albrecht 
saw  there,  Albrecht  the  German,  who  has  come 
here  but  lately,  and  he  had  seen  you  once  before 
at  St.  Sebald's  Church  in  Nuremberg.  Now  that 

94 


THE  ANATOMY   LESSON   BEGUN 

I  have  seen  your  face  I  am  sure  that  you  are  in 
deed  the  maiden  of  whom  he  spoke." 

"  Your  words,  sir,  are  as  strange  as  your  actions. 
Are  these  your  Amsterdam  manners,  that  a  gentle 
woman  is  to  be  followed  through  the  streets  and 
accosted  by  a  stranger?  Fie  and  for  shame,  sir. 
Hie  you  home  and  repent.  You  shall  know 
naught  of  me,  nor  shall  your  German  friend, 
whose  manners  I  trust  are  better  than  yours,  if  it 
is  true,  as  you  say,  that  he  comes  from  my  own 
loved  land.  Begone,  sir,  and  at  once,"  and  she 
turned  toward  the  guard-house. 

Rembrandt  had  no  choice  as  to  what  to  do. 
Go  he  must,  and  go  he  did.  Somewhat  ashamed 
he  was  as  he  went  back  again  toward  the  studio, 
for  again  had  his  impetuosity  put  him  in  a  posi 
tion  which  was  by  no  means  agreeable.  How 
ever,  there  was  no  help  for  it,  and  at  least  he  had 
seen  the  lady  and  had  found  her  near  to  his  own 
home.  She  must  have  been  there  for  some  'pur 
pose,  and  perhaps  she  would  come  again  if  she 
had  not  been  too  much  frightened. 

Albrecht  was  impatiently  awaiting  him.  "  What 
news,  Rembrandt  ?  Tell  me  quickly." 

There  was  a  twinkle  in  Rembrandt's  eye.  He 
loved  a  jest,  and  remembering  how  Albrecht  had 
treated  him  in  the  morning,  he  resolved  to  be  even 
with  him. 

"  Oho,  friend  Albrecht !  It  is  you  who  are  im 
patient  this  time,  I  perceive,  and  it  is  I  who  am 
hungry  and  thirsty,  for  I  have  had  a  weary  time 
and  I  am  heavy-hearted.  Jan,  some  beer  and 
sausage  for  us  both." 

95 


REMBRANDT 

"  Heavy-hearted,  you  say?  Then  you  bring  not 
good  tidings.  Did  Hendrik  know  naught  about 
her  ?  Tell  me,  I  pray." 

"  Wait  until  I  get  my  breath  and  refresh  my 
self.  Ah,  there  is  the  beer!  That  is  well;  I  am 
somewhat  overheated.  I  have  been  walking  very 
rapidly.  I  might  almost  say  I  have  been  running." 

"  Well,  well,  take  your  beer,  in  God's  name. 
Running,  you  say  ?  What  on  earth  were  you  run 
ning  for?  Speak,  I  pray  you." 

"  Oh,  Albrecht,  she  is  gone  ;  gone  to  Franeker 
to  see  her  sister,  they  say.  But  I  could  not  see 
her,  nor  can  I  go  there,  for  I  must  paint  to 
morrow.  Dr.  Tulp  comes,  you  know." 

"Yes,  yes;  to  be  sure — so  he  docs.  1  had  for 
gotten  it.  She  has  gone  to  Franeker,  you  say  ? 
How  did  you  find  that  out?  Hendrik  told  you, 
I  suppose.  Did  he  tell  you  her  name  ?  Oh,  tell 
me  what  is  her  name  !  " 

"  Why,  you  great  idiot,  have  you  forgotten  the 
name  of  Saskia?  You  must  be  dreaming  again, 
as  is  your  wont." 

"Saskia,  Saskia.  Oh,  yes,  I  see!  I  thought 
not  of  her.  Oh,  of  course  you  went  to  see  her. 
I  had  forgotten.  To  be  sure— I  beg  your  par 
don.  Saskia,  yes;  and  you  saw  her  not?  I  am 
very  sorry,  but  you  will  see  her  soon.  It  is  bet 
ter  you  should  not  see  her  just  yet." 

"So  said  Hendrik,  but  it  is  weary  waiting  when 
I  have  not  made  my  peace.  Nevertheless,  I  will 
paint  with  all  my  might,  for  I  have  hope  that  my 
work  will  make  her  proud  of  me." 

"  Yes,  Rembrandt,  it  will.  I  am  sure  of  it.  I 
96 


THE  ANATOMY   LESSON   BEGUN 

sympathize  with  you  from  my  heart,  but  now,  my 
dear  friend,  will  you  not  tell  me  a  word  of  that 
other?" 

"  Ay,  Albrecht,  that  will  I.  I  saw  her  but  now 
at  the  corner  of  this  very  street  I  am  sure  it  was 
she,  for  I  followed  her,  and  as  I  overtook  her  she 
turned  and  I  saw  her  face.  She  is  indeed  beau 
tiful,  as  you  said,  and  she  is  brave  and  high-spir 
ited.  I  was  forced  to  leave  in  some  confusion,  for 
she  was  near  the  guard-house  and  she  threatened 
to  have  the  civic  guard  on  me  for  pursuing  her  in 
the  streets.  So  I  found  not  her  name,  nor  her 
dwelling-place.  You  must  e'en  bide  your  time, 
friend  Albrecht,  and  next  time  it  would  be  better 
for  you,  as  it  would  have  been  for  me,  to  take  up 
your  own  quest." 

"  Oh  !  I  will  find  her,"  said  the  German,  ar 
dently.  "  My  heart  tells  me  so  ;  but  it  is  galling 
that  you  came  so  near,  and  yet  failed  to  find  her 
dwelling-place." 

The  next  morning,  quite  early,  Dr.  Tulp  came 
to  the  studio.  He  was  attired  in  his  full  academic 
costume — cloak  and  gloves,  broad  white  collar, 
and  broad-brimmed  black  hat.  He  looked  very 
dignified,  noble,  and  above  all,  thoughtful.  He 
was  a  perfect  type  of  the  intellectual  man  of  his 
time,  and  his  face  at  once  emphasized  the  keynote 
of  Rembrandt's  picture,  which  had  already  been 
struck  in  the  dissecting-room — the  note  of  intel 
lect,  intense  eager  thought,  which  was  to  perme 
ate  the  whole  work. 

"  I  greet  you,  Rembrandt,"  said  the  learned 
doctor,  "  and  I  hope  that  your  somewhat  unwar- 

97 


REMBRANDT 

ranted  liberties  of  the  other  day  have  put  you  in 
the  mood  to  paint  this  picture.  To  tell  you  the 
truth  I  set  much  store  by  it,  for  I  have  long  had 
it  in  mind  to  do  this  for  the  Surgeons'  Guild,  and 
I  am  most  anxious  that  it  should  be  a  fit  com 
memoration  of  my  long  and  arduous  labors  in  the 
cause  of  medicine." 

"  Most  honored  doctor,"  said  Rembrandt,  "will 
you  be  good  enough  to  step  into  the  studio,  and 
see  the  sketch  which  I  have  to-day  made  for  the 
picture?" 

"  Gladly,  Rembrandt,  gladly  ;  and  if  I  have  any 
criticism  to  make,  I  trust  you  will  receive  it  in 
good  part,  remembering  the  great  personal  inter 
est  I  have  in  this  work." 

"  Nay,  doctor.  Grateful  indeed  would  I  be  for 
any  helpful  comment." 

So  saying  Rembrandt  opened  the  door  that  led 
into  the  studio  where  he  had  begun  to  paint  Sas- 
kia.  Dr.  Tulp  entered,  and  the  large  sketch  in 
charcoal  stood  upon  the  easel  directly  in  front  of 
him. 

Involuntarily  the  grave  and  dignified  doctor 
started  back,  and  lifted  one  hand  in  a  gesture  of 
amazement.  He  saw  in  a  moment  that  no  guild 
picture  like  this  had  ever  been  painted.  Where 
was  the  banqueting  table  ?  Where  were  the  ban 
ners?  Where  were  the  meats  and  pies  and  fruits, 
the  wine  and  the  beer  ?  Not  one  of  these  things 
to  be  seen.  It  was  unheard  of.  Nobody  ever 
painted  guild  pictures  without  such  accessories. 
And  there  surely  was  the  corpse  on  the  table,  and 
he  himself  in  the  act  of  dissecting  it.  Why  !  this 

98 


6 


I 


THE  ANATOMY   LESSON   BEGUN 

would  be  a  terrible  picture,  but  how  fascinating  ! 
In  a  moment  the  keen  mind  of  the  doctor  per 
ceived  the  power  of  the  work.  If  he  had  not 
been  a  man  of  liberal  thought,  he  would  have  re 
volted  against  so  abrupt  a  departure  from  all  the 
received  canons  of  this  branch  of  art ;  but  his 
trained  intellect  grasped  at  once  something  of  the 
artist's  meaning,  and  he  perceived  that  if  this  was 
a  new  departure  it  was  likely  to  be  a  famous  one. 

Dr.  Tulp  was  perfectly  silent  for  some  minutes, 
rapt  in  contemplation  of  the  sketch,  while  Rem 
brandt  eagerly  studied  his  face,  noting  with 
pleasure  the  first  expression  of  amazement,  then 
the  growing  interest  kindling  in  the  doctor's  great 
black  eyes,  then  the  concentration  of  thought, 
the  effort  to  solve  this  new  problem  and  deter 
mine  what  art  like  this  might  mean. 

Dr.  Tulp  spoke  at  last.  "  Rembrandt,  I  knew 
your  power,  else  would  I  not  have  given  you  this 
commission,  but  I  confess  I  knew  not  your  origi 
nality.  I  say  to  you  in  all  frankness,  nothing  so 
unusual,  and  nothing  so  intensely  real,  and  I  may 
add  nothing  so  intellectual,  has  been  as  yet  at 
tempted  in  Dutch  art.  Now  I  wonder  not  at  your 
coming  to  the  dissecting-room.  You  could  not 
thus  have  painted  the  picture  otherwise.  I  con 
gratulate  you  from  my  heart.  You  have  under 
stood  and  painted  our  very  lives — but,  Rembrandt, 
the  corpse  there  in  the  foreground  ? — Will  it  not 
make  the  picture  ghastly  and  horrible?" 

"  Fear  not,  honored  doctor,  I  shall  so  paint  it 
that  it  will  not  absorb  attention,  but  rather  will 
lend  interest  to  the  faces  about  it,  being  a  palpa- 


REMBRANDT 

ble  cause  for  the  intensity  of  their  expressions. 
Moreover  I  shall  make  it  a  note  of  fine  color,  al 
though  it  is  a  corpse." 

"  Rembrandt,  I  admire  your  firmness  of  pur 
pose,  and  your  proud  confidence  in  yourself. 
Moreover  I  perceive  the  genius  that  is  here.  Art 
is  not  indeed  my  profession,  but  I  know  somewhat 
of  it,  and  I  believe  if  you  successfully  complete 
this  picture  in  this  most  extraordinary  and  un 
heard  of  way,  you  will  be  the  most  famous  man 
in  Holland,  provided  enough  people  can  be  found 
who  will  understand  your  work.  Go  on,  then,  in 
God's  name.  Do  with  me  as  you  will.  I  leave 
all  to  you.  I  am  not  capable  of  suggestion  in  the 
presence  of  such  a  conception.  It  would  ill  be 
come  me  to  confuse  you  even  by  a  word.  I  am 
sorry  that  I  spoke  of  the  corpse,  but  the  idea  oi 
placing  it  as  you  have  done  seemed  so  entirely 
out  of  the  common  that  it  fairly  overcame  me, 
and  I  spoke  before  I  thought — a  thing  I  rarely 
do." 

"  How  can  I  thank  you  enough  for  your  words 
of  appreciation  ?"  said  Rembrandt.  "I  am  not 
worthy  of  such  praise  from  such  a  man.  But  now 
we  must  proceed.  I  wish  to  paint  your  portrait 
first,  as  it  is  the  central  point  of  attraction,  and 
then  I  hope  the  other  doctors  will  come,  one  by 
one,  and  I  will  paint  them  as  I  have  grouped  them 
here.  Will  you  be  good  enough  to  stand  yonder 
—there  in  the  light  of  that  north  window.  There 
is  a  table  here.  Jan,  bring  in  the  table  from  the 
other  room — Albrecht  \vill  help  you." 

The  pose  was  soon  arranged   exactly  as  Rem- 


THE  ANATOMY   LESSON   BEGUN 

brandt  had  sketched  it  from  his  vivid  remem 
brance  of  the  scene  in  the  dissecting-room. 
"  Bring  that  stand  'with  the  big  book  on  it,  Jan. 
I  have  it  ready  there  in  the  other  room.  Place  it 
at  the  foot  of  the  table.  Ah  !  that  is  as  it  should 
be.  Now,  Albrecht,  good  friend,  lie  down  there 
on  the  table  as  nearly  as  you  can  in  the  position 
of  the  corpse." 

"  Ugh!  Ugh!  friend  Rembrandt,"  said  the  Ger 
man.  "  I  hope  you  are  not  going  to  make  a  corpse 
of  me.  I  am  not  yet  ready  to  take  that  part." 

"  Oh  !  Albrecht,  you  will  have  your  jest.  You 
know  I  must  have  a  body  there  or  I  cannot  get 
my  drawing  and  my  lights  and  shades  as  they 
should  be." 

"  Very  well  then,  as  long  as  I  am  to  be  a  body 
and  not  a  corpse,  I  don't  mind."  Albrecht  ac 
cordingly  lay  flat  on  the  table  and  Dr.  Tulp  stood 
behind.  Rembrandt  put  a  pair  of  scissors  in  the 
doctor's  right  hand,  with  the  point  of  them  on 
Albrecht's  left  arm.  He  placed  the  doctor's  left 
arm  in  a  gesture  of  emphasis. 

"  There,"  said  Rembrandt,  delighted,  "  that  is 
exact,  and  the  light  is  admirable.  Quiet,  now, 
while  I  paint." 

His  colors  were  already  ground,  and  his  palette 
and  brushes  ready.  He  painted  with  the  most  in 
tense  absorption,  and  with  great  rapidity.  At  last 
his  subject  could  no  longer  endure  the  constrained 
position  and  begged  for  a  rest,  which  would  have 
been  given  long  before,  had  not  Rembrandt  quite 
forgotten  that  there  was  any  need  of  rest  while  he 
was  painting. 

101 


REMBRANDT 

"  I  beg  a  thousand  pardons,"  said  Rembrandt, 
starting  up  from  his  easel.  "  It  is  a  shame  that  I 
am  so  forgetful,  so  neglectful  of  youf  comfort. 
Come,  now,  let  us  rest  awhile.  Come  both  of  you 
to  the  dining-room,  if  you  will  honor  me  so  much, 
and  let  us  have  some  refreshment." 

Both  the  doctor  and  Albrecht  were  somewhat 
stiff  from  their  long-continued  constrained  posi 
tion,  and  a  little  tired  withal.  They  were  glad  to 
accept  the  painter's  invitation,  and  went  with  him 
to  the  room,  where  the  servant,  by  Rembrandt's 
direction,  had  already  prepared  a  good  meal,  for 
it  was  now  past  the  middle  of  the  day. 

"  My  dear  Rembrandt,"  said  Dr.  Tulp,  "  may  I 
crave  the  honor  of  this  young  man's  acquaintance. 
You  have  not  yet  made  known  to  me  his  name  ; 
yet,  if  I  mistake  not,  he  is  your  friend." 

"  Alas  !  alas !  what  will  I  do  next?  "  said  Rem 
brandt.  "  I  have  no  wits  at  all  when  1  get  to 
painting.  I  crave  pardon  of  you  both.  Dr.  Tulp 
this  is  my  friend,  Albrecht  von  Stoltzing ;  I  met 
him  on  the  road  hither  as  I  came  from  Leyden, 
and  we  have  been  together  ever  since.  He  is  from 
Nuremberg,  and  he  has  a  fine  collection  of  prints 
which  he  wishes  to  sell  here." 

"  I  am  most  pleased  to  meet  you,  Herr  von  Stolt 
zing,"  said  Dr.  Tulp  with  his  habitual  dignity. 

"  It  is  a  great  honor  and  pleasure  to  me,  sir,  to 
meet  one  whose  fame  is  well  known  in  my  native 
land,"  said  the  courtly  Albrecht. 

Being  now  at  ease,  they  soon  did  full  justice  to 
the  ample  provision  of  meat,  bread,  fruit,  and 
Rhine  wine,  with  which  the  table  was  loaded. 

102 


THE  ANATOMY   LESSON   BEGUN    . 

Afterward  the  painting  was  resumed,  and  before 
the  afternoon  was  over  the  portrait  of  Dr.  Tulp 
was  well  advanced.  The  accuracy  of  the  likeness 
was  so  marked  already  that  both  Dr.  Tulp  and 
Albrecht  uttered  exclamations  of  wonder  as  they 
looked  on  what  the  master  had  accomplished. 

The  other  sittings  were  much  like  this  one;  but 
as  each  different  doctor  came  to  sit  for  his  portrait 
there  was  always  the  same  amazement,  the  same  in 
ability  to  comprehend  the  intense  originality  of  the 
picture  and  the  mastery  of  its  grouping  and  hand 
ling.  Yet  all  felt  that  here  was  something  new  in 
the  art,  and  were  well  aware  that  such  a  picture 
could  not  fail  to  make  a  great  stir  in  Amsterdam, 
where  people  loved  pictures  as  the  Greeks  loved 
statues.  The  whole  town  would  surely  ring  with 
it,  and  they  themselves  would  never  be  forgotten, 
because  of  this  masterly  picture. 


103 


CHAPTER  XIV 

What  Can  Come  From  a  Picture 

AT  last  the  "Anatomy  Lesson  "  was  finished,  nor 
had  it  taken  long  to  complete  it  when  the 
size  and  importance  of  the  composition  were  con 
sidered.  The  fiery  painter  had  been  carried 
away  by  his  conception,  and  he  worked  at  white 
heat,  but  always  with  a  touch  so  sure  that  one 
would  have  thought  the  artist  must  have  been  as 
calm  and  steady  as  a  theologian  reading  an  ab 
struse  commentary. 

Dr.  Tulp  and  his  pupils  came  to  see  it  in  the 
studio.  There  was  a  chorus  of  admiration  which 
touched  Rembrandt's  very  soul.  This  strange 
man,  so  haughty,  so  engrossed  in  one  thing,  self- 
centred,  had  his  side  of  tenderness.  There  was 
some  love  of  his  fellows  in  him,  albeit  he  associated 
not  much  with  his  kind,  and  for  the  most  part  was 
a  solitary.  At  this  moment  there  came  to  him  a 
thrill  that  brought  tears  to  his  eyes  as  the  learned 
men  went  into  rhapsodies  over  his  creation. 

"  My  friends  and  pupils,"  said  Dr.  Tulp,  rising, 
"and  if  I  may  call  him  by  that  name,  my  friend 
Rembrandt,  I  feel  that  in  the  presence  of  this  mas 
terpiece  it  is  incumbent  upon  me  to  say  a  very  few 
words  that  may,  if  I  am  fortunate,  convince  the 
master  who  has  done  this  that  we  are  not  without 

104 


WHAT   CAN   COME   FROM   A   PICTURE 

appreciation  of  his  marvellous  achievement.  We 
thank  him,  we  admire  him,  and  we  bow  in  rever 
ence  before  that  genius  which  has  produced  what 
is  without  a  parallel  in  Dutch  art,  great  and  ad 
mirable  as  that  art  is.  I  will  detain  you  yet  a 
moment.  It  seems  to  me  that  it  would  be  selfish 
if  the  Surgeons'  Guild,  to  whom  I  give  this  pict 
ure,  should  take  it  at  once  to  the  Guild  House. 
My  friends,  we  owe  a  duty  to  our  fellow-citi 
zens.  We  have  no  right  to  keep  entirely  to  our 
selves  a  work  so  masterly.  What  think  you  ? 
Would  it  not  be  well  that  this  picture  should  be 
publicly  shown  in  the  town-hall  for  some  weeks, 
that  all  those  who  dwell  in  Amsterdam  may  come 
to  know  that  a  great  painter  lives  among  them, 
greater  than  any  who  has  been  before  him  in  this 
town.  What  say  ye,  my  masters  ?  Shall  the  pict 
ure  be  thus  disposed  ?  " 

There  was  a  loud  voice  of  approbation,  and  the 
picture  was  fairly  borne  away  in  triumph  among 
the  doctors  almost  as  Cimabue's  Madonna  was 
carried  through  the  streets  of  Florence,  and  in  the 
great  town-hall  it  was  placed. 

In  the  resort  of  the  citizens  when  there  was  a 
town  meeting,  in  the  place  where  the  grave  Bur 
gomasters  sat  and  deliberated  about  the  city's 
affairs,  in  the  very  heart  and  centre  of  the  life  of 
Amsterdam,  they  hung  Rembrandt's  masterpiece, 
that  all,  both  high  and  low,  might  learn  to  know  it. 

It  was  not  long  before  all  heard  about  the  pict 
ure  and  flocked  to  see  it.  It  was  received  with  an 
outburst  of  almost  universal  admiration.  There 
were  some  among  the  artists  who  held  back  a 

105 


REMBRANDT 

little.  The  conception  was  so  novel,  so  entirely 
different  from  that  of  any  other  Guild  picture, 
that  the  admission  of  its  pre-eminent  greatness  was 
in  a  way  a  slur  upon  all  pictures  of  the  kind  which 
had  been  painted  before.  These  Dutch  painters 
were  very  human,  and,  moreover,  they  were  justly 
proud  of  their  own  art.  It  was  not  easy  for  them 
to  confess  the  superiority  of  a  rival  in  their  own 
chosen  field,  especially  so  young  a  man,  and  this 
his  first  effort  at  such  a  work.  Nevertheless,  most 
of  them  were  generous  and  frankly  confessed  their 
admiration.  Some,  however,  were  jealous  and 
surly.  Rembrandt's  manner  was  never  concilia 
tory,  and  he  took  little  pains  to  placate  those  whose 
pride  was  ruffled.  As  a  consequence  he  already 
had  some  enemies  in  Amsterdam,  but  on  the  whole 
the  admiration  of  the  picture  was  so  great  that  it 
came  true,  as  Hendrik  had  said  would  be  the  case, 
that  the  painter  at  once  became  the  talk  of  the 
town,  and  the  most  popular  portrait  painter  in 
Amsterdam.  He  was  overwhelmed  with  commis 
sions,  and  had  not  the  time  to  paint  half  of  the 
portraits  that  were  ordered. 

Rembrandt  took  his  popularity  as  only  his  due. 
He  was  always  fully  aware  of  his  powers — al 
ways  proud  and  self-confident.  Now,  however,  his 
manner  was  more  than  usually  chastened,  for  he 
knew  not  whether  Saskia  had  heard  of  the  pict 
ure,  and  it  was  Saskia  who  was  now  filling  his 
thoughts,  even  more  than  his  art.  The  passion 
which  swept  him  was  as  great  as  was  possible  to 
his  nature,  and  moreover  obstacles  and  delays  had 
brought  it  to  white  heat.  Each  day  he  went  to 

106 


WHAT   CAN   COME   FROM   A   PICTURE 

Hendrik's  and  inquired  as  to  her  return,  but  she 
had  not  yet  come.  Rembrandt  could  not  well  go 
to  seek  her  and  neglect  all  the  work  which  was 
pouring  in  upon  him. 

The  truth  was  that  Saskia  had  gone,  partly  be 
cause  of  maidenly  modesty,  since  she  feared  she 
had  said  too  much  to  Albrecht,  partly  from  pride, 
because  she  did  not  wish  to  seem  too  easily  pla 
cated  after  so  serious  an  offence,  and  partly  be 
cause  her  sister  Antje  really  did  need  her,  for  she 
was  delicate  and  set  much  store  by  the  company 
of  her  merry  sister.  These  were  good  reasons 
enough  surely,  but  nevertheless  they  were  not 
sufficient  to  put  Saskia  entirely  at  her  ease,  nor 
did  Antje  find  her  quite  so  gay  a  companion  as 
she  was  wont  to  be.  Indeed  at  times  Saskia  was 
quite  pensive  and  absent-minded,  and  sometimes 
her  face  wore  a  troubled  look. 

Antje  rallied  her  about  this,  and  vowed  she  must 
be  in  love,  or  she  would  not  act  thus.  Saskia 
would  deny  this  hotly,  and  then  put  on  a  forced 
merriment,  which  was  so  plainly  false  that  it 
brought  a  smile  to  Antje's  face. 

One  day  a  letter  came  to  Antje,  and  she  knew 
from  the  round  and  labored  writing  that  it  was 
from  Hendrik.  She  loved  her  cousin,  and  eagerly 
broke  the  seal  to  read  what  he  might  say,  for  he 
wrote  so  rarely  that  a  letter  from  him  was  quite 
an  event.  She  deciphered  the  letter  with  some 
difficulty,  but  when  she  had  mastered  the  intrica 
cies  of  its  handwriting  her  face  lit  up  with  quickly 
growing  interest. 

"  What  is  it,  sister?"  said  Saskia,  who  had  been 
107 


REMBRANDT 

watching  her.  "  You  seem  much  interested. 
Will  you  not  tell  me  ?  I  know  it's  from  Hen- 
drik.  Often  have  I  laughed  over  his  scrawls." 

"  Yes,  yes,  it  is  from  Hendrik,"  said  Antje. 
"  Wait  a  moment  till  I  read  it  all — then  I  will  tell 
you." 

Antje  was  lying,  propped  up  with  pillows,  in 
one  of  those  great  carved  beds  of  which  the 
Dutch  were  so  fond.  Part  of  it  was  built  into 
the  wall,  but  the  foot  came  out  into  the  room, 
and  the  foot-board,  posts,  and  canopy  above  were 
very  richly  ornamented.  The  lo\v-latticed  win 
dow  threw  a  cross  light  that  came  under  the 
canopy,  otherwise  Saskia,  who  was  in  a  low 
but  large  chair,  on  a  great  cushion  covered  with 
tapestry,  could  not  have  seen  her  sister's  face  at 
all.  After  awhile  the  invalid  finished  the  letter 
and  then  she  immediately  began  to  tell  of  its 
contents.  "  Oh  !  Saskia  !  a  great  man  has  arisen 
in  Amsterdam — a  painter.  He  is  the  talk  of  the 
town.  Why,  his  picture  was  carried  in  triumph 
through  the  streets  !  Let  me  see  !  What  is  this  ? 
Oh  !  Hendrik,  I  wish  you  would  write  a  little 
more  plainly.  Ah  !  I  see  '  exhibited  '  that  was 
it !  In  the  Town  Hall,  and  everybody  has  seen 
it,  and  everybody  says  it  is  the  greatest  picture 
Dutch  art  has  produced,  and  he  has  more  com 
missions  than  he  can  fulfil,  and  what  is  this  ? 
What  can  this  be?  You  stupid  Hendrik,  'but 
he  is  tired,'  nonsense,  he  can't  be  tired.  What 
is  it  ?  Oh  !  it  is  '  tired,'  yes  that  is  it,  '  and 
seems  sad  in  spite  of  his  triumph.'" 

"  Well  !  Antje,"  said  Saskia,  "  that  is  very 
108 


WHAT   CAN   COME   FROM    A   PICTURE 

interesting,  indeed.  I  suppose  Franz  Hals  has 
come  back  and  made  another  Guild  picture. 
Perhaps  you  don't  know  you  forgot  to  tell  me 
the  painter's  name." 

"  1  did,  indeed,  forget  to  tell  you  that  I  couldn't 
read  it.  Hendrik's  writing  is  really  too  bad. 
You  might  try  yourself.  Here  is  the  letter." 
Saskia  took  it.  Instantly  she  read,  "  Rembrandt." 
She  spoke  no  word,  but  a  great  thrill  of  joy  made 
her  quiver  from  head  to  foot.  She  turned  to 
ward  the  window,  her  hands  clasped  behind  her, 
one  holding  the  letter,  and  she  looked  out  toward 
the  sunset. 

Antje  looked  upon  her  in  amazement,  as  well 
she  might,  for  it  seemed  that  Saskia  had  forgotten 
everything  but  her  thoughts. 

"  What  has  come  to  thee,  sister?"  said  Antje,  at 
length.  "  Methinks  it  must  be  something  most 
strange  that  has  moved  thee  thus.  Ah  !  I  know  ! 
Did  I  not  tell  thee  thou  wert  in  love?  and  now  I 
shrewdly  guess  the  name.  I  could  not  read  it, 
but  I  know  it  is  the  name  of  him  thou  lovest. 
Tell  it  me,  sister,  tell  it  quickly." 

"  Antje  you  are  in  the  right.  There  is  no  need 
of  further  concealment  between  us,"  said  Saskia, 
coming  from  the  window  to  the  bed,  and  giving 
the  letter  again  to  her  sister.  "  The  name,  dear, 
is  Rembrandt.  There  have  been  few  words  of  love 
between  us,  but,  alas!  enough  for  poor  me.  He 
treated  me  badly  and  I  fled  from  Amsterdam  ; 
but  I  do  not  really  think  he  meant  it.  He  for 
got  me  once,  indeed,  he  did ;  then  he  had  said  he 
would  paint  my  picture,  but  now  he  has  nobly 

109 


REMBRANDT 

sought  to  win  honor  and  fame.  Oh  !  I  see,  sister, 
I  see !  How  grand  he  is!  He  yielded  not  to 
discouragement  when  he  failed  to  find  me.  He 
has  painted  his  picture  for  me.  I  know  it,  oh! 
I  know  it.  He  shall  have  his  reward — but  not 
too  quickly.  Oh  !  I  will  play  with  him  !  I  will 
have  many  a  merry  jest  before  I  yield,  but  I  won't 
go  away  again.  The  next  time  he  comes,  Rem 
brandt  will  find  me  at  home.  Sister,  when  goes 
the  next  boat  to  Amsterdam  ?  1  must  return 
directly.  I  have  stayed  too  long  as  it  is." 

"  Upon  my  word,  Saskia,  I  thought  thou 
would'st  never  stop  talking.  Rembrandt,  you  say 
is  the  great  painter  and  the  man  who  is  blessed 
with  my  sweet  sister's  love.  He  is,  indeed,  one 
of  the  most  fortunate  of  mortals.  Whence  came 
he,  Saskia?  I  never  heard  of  him." 

"  Fie  on  you,  Antje  !  never  heard  of  the 
greatest  master  in  Holland  ?  Well,  you'd  better 
hear  of  him.  He  came  from  Leyden.  He  has 
not  dwelt  long  in  Amsterdam,  though  he  has  been 
there  before.  But  when  leaves  the  boat  ?  I  must 
go  back,  I  say." 

Antje,  with  loving  interest,  did  what  she  could 
to  hasten  her  sister's  departure,  and  while  the 
preparations  were  going  forward  Saskia  told  her 
all  the  story,  which  certainly  would  have  interested 
anyone  and  did  greatly  excite  the  romantic  Antje. 

So  Saskia  went  back  to  Amsterdam,  and  for  a 
time  she  lodged  with  her  Cousin  Hendrik. 

One  day  Albrecht,  who  always  brought  to 
Rembrandt  the  news  from  Hendrik's,  came  back 
to  the  studio  in  a  state  of  very  evident  excite 


WHAT   CAN   COME   FROM   A   PICTURE 

raent.  Rembrandt  was  painting  an  important 
portrait,  and  it  was  hardly  possible  to  interrupt 
him  at  that  moment.  An  Amsterdam  dame  of 
much  majesty  and  gravity  of  demeanor  was  the 
subject.  She  seemed  one  who  brooked  no  inter 
ruption  in  her  business,  though  she  might  pos 
sibly  interfere  in  the  business  of  others  in  a  rather 
severe  way.  She  was  an  admiral's  wife,  and 
though  Albrecht  knew  it  not,  the  admiral,  brave 
as  a  lion  at  sea,  was  tame  as  a  lamb  at  home. 

So  Albrecht,  with  his  accustomed  shrewdness, 
made  the  best  of  it.  "  Oh  !  well,"  he  thought, 
"  he  can  wait ;  a  little  waiting  more  or  less 
matters  not.  Sometimes  it  is  well  for  a  man, 
especially  a  hot-headed  man  like  yonder  Rem 
brandt.  Better  he  should  wait  than  have  the 
vials  of  that  sweet  lady's  wrath  poured  on  his 
head."  This  Albrecht  dreamed  to  some  purpose. 
Sometimes  he  dreamed  out  characters  better  than 
others  could  find  them  out  by  the  most  rigorous 
analysis,  and  he  felt  directly  the  lady's  asperity. 
Therefore  he  waited.  After  a  long  while  the 
lady  arose  with  much  dignity  and  said.  "  The  sit 
ting  has  been  long  enough,  Mynheer  Rembrandt. 
Not  that  I  am  weary,  I  am  never  weary,  but 
there  are  duties  to  be  done  at  home." 

Rembrandt  bowed  gravely,  and  said  :  "  When 
will  it  please  you,  My  Frow,  to  come  again,  that 
I  may  finish  the  portrait?  It  nears  completion." 

"  I  will  come  to-morrow,  sir,  in  the  morning. 
Marie,  fetch  my  cloak  and  my  gloves." 

Presently  the  lady  bowed  with  much  stateli- 
ness  and  departed  with  her  maid. 


CHAPTER   XV 

Saskia  and  Rembrandt 

A  FEW  minutes  after  the  departure  of  Rem 
brandt's  sitter  Albrecht  came  quietly  toward 
the  painter  and  said :  "  She  has  come  back.  She 
is  here.  She  is  at  Hendrik's." 

"  Mean  you  Saskia  has  come  back,  Albrecht? 
or  are  you  raving  about  that  unknown  lady  whom 
you  have  not  yet  found?  " 

"  Nay,  Rembrandt,  indeed,  I  spoke  of  Saskia.  It 
is  true  that  she  is  here.  I  saw  her  not,  but  Hen- 
drik  said  she  was  there,  and  that  her  coming  was 
sudden  and  unlocked  for — nor  did  she  explain 
why  she  had  returned  so  soon." 

"  What  hour  of  the  day  is  it,  Albrecht  ?  I  know 
not  how  long  I  have  been  painting." 

"  It  is  but  three  of  the  afternoon,  and  the  days 
are  longer  now,  as  the  spring  draws  on." 

"  I  will  to  Hendrik's  at  once.  There  will  be  yet 
time  to  see  her." 

Rembrandt  threw  down  his  palette  and  brushes, 
leaving  them  for  the  boy  to  cleanse.  He  did, 
however,  stop  to  give  a  little  heed  to  his  toilet,  a 
thing  most  unwonted  for  him.  Then,  in  a  very  few 
minutes,  he  donned  his  broad  hat  and  wrapped 
his  long  cloak  around  him  and  strode  eagerly  to 
ward  Hendrik's  shop. 

112 


SASKIA   AND    REMBRANDT 

He  thought  not  of  what  he  should  say  to  the 
maiden,  save  that  he  would  by  some  means  make 
her  know  his  love.  His  very  life  depended  on 
her  return  of  his  affection,  and  he  thought  but 
little  of  the  quarrel  which  had  separated  them. 
The  full  flood-tide  of  love  was  not  to  be  checked 
by  such  trifles.  The  love  had  been  there  all  the 
time,  and  Saskia  must  know  it  now,  once  and  for 
ever. 

He  came  to  Hendrik's  door  and  entered  hastily, 
but  such  entrance  was  so  common  with  him  that 
it  attracted  little  attention  even  from  Hendrik, 
who  was  there  as  usual,  sitting  behind  his  big  desk 
at  the  farther  end  of  the  shop.  Rembrandt  went 
directly  toward  him  and  said  :  "  Hendrik,  I  am 
told  Saskia  is  here.  Is  it  true?" 

"  Ah  !  ah  !  that  is  you,  friend?  I  am  proud  to 
have  so  famous  a  man  honor  my  humble  shop  with 
his  presence.  Yes,  yes !  plain  Hendrik  knows  gen 
ius  when  he  sees  it,  and  sometimes  he  can  see  it. 
He  saw  it  in  you.  Oh,  yes  !  long  ago.  He  told  you 
so.  The  very  idea  that  Hendrik  should  have  been 
first  to  know  there  was  a  genius  here  in  Amster 
dam  !  Oh,  well !  They  all  know  it  now  !  I  greet 
you  gladly,  friend,  I  am  proud." 

"  Peace,  man,"  said  Rembrandt.  "  I  thank  you 
for  your  compliments,  I  doubt  not  they  are  well 
meant.  I  thank  you,  I  say  ;  but  heard  you  not  my 
question?  Is  Saskia  here?  " 

"Saskia?  Saskia?  Oh!  so  the  wind  blows! 
Yes,  my  master,  she  is  here.  What  would  you 
with  her  ?  " 

"  I  would    see  her,   and   that  at  once.     I  have 

"3 


REMBRANDT 

something  to  say  to  her  that  brooks  not  delay. 
Send  your  varlet.  Ask  if  she  is  within,  and  do  it 
quickly,  man.  There  is  no  time  to  be  lost." 

"  Well,  well.  Ah  me  !  I  never  did  see  a  Dutch 
man  in  such  a  hurry.  Caspar.  What  ho  there  ! 
Caspar !  " 

"  Yes,  master,"  said  the  little  servant,  who  was 
a  sort  of  man-of-all-work  in  Hendrik's  home. 

"  Hie  to  Mistress  Saskia's  room  above,  and  tell 
her  that  the  famous  painter,  Rembrandt,  is  below 
and  fain  would  have  speech  with  her." 

"  I  go  master,"  and  he  went.  He  gave  his 
message.  Saskia  had  expected  this,  for  she  re 
membered  Rembrandt's  eyes.  She  knew  it  was 
only  a  question  of  a  short  time  when  he  would 
come,  and  since  she  had  come  back  to  Amsterdam, 
as  she  well  knew,  for  the  very  purpose  of  seeing 
him  again,  it  would  have  been  foolish,  and  perhaps 
dangerous,  for  her  and  for  him,  to  refuse  him  en 
trance. 

Saskia  flushed  a  little,  then  she  said,  with  perfect 
calmness :  "  Caspar,  you  may  bid  Mynheer  Rem 
brandt  welcome  here." 

A  moment  later  Rembrandt  entered  the  room. 
He  stood  for  an  instant  in  silence  devouring  Sas 
kia  with  his  eyes,  then  said : 

"  Welcome  home  !  fairest  of  all  fair  ladies !  Am 
sterdam  has  been  but  a  dreary  place  without  you." 

"  I  thank  you,  sir,  for  your  courtly  words,"  said 
Saskia,  laughing  lightly.  "  Indeed,  I  thought  not 
you  would  remember  me  at  all.  I  have  been  told 
that  your  memory  is  very  treacherous." 

"  Nay !  jest  not  with  me,  dear  lady,  nor  chide 
114 


SASKIA   AND   REMBRANDT 

me.  Well  know  I  what  you  mean,  but  I  have  re 
pented  in  dust  and  ashes,  and  I  have  suffered  tort 
ures  because  of  my  fault.  I  offer  no  excuse,  save 
that  I  was  carried  away  by  the  excitement  of  the 
most  important  work  of  my  life.  Can  you  not 
forgive  ?  Surely  you  know  something  about  the 
engrossing  power  of  art,  and  surely  you  could 
think  how  much  the  painting  of  such  a  picture 
meant  to  me?  " 

"  Why !  what  are  you  making  such  a  trouble 
about,  Mynheer  painter  ?  Do  you  think  we  Fries- 
land  girls  would  confess  ourselves  offended,  or 
hurt  by  you  men  even  if  it  were  true?  But  if 
you  want  forgiveness,  and  think  you  need  it,  as  I 
verily  believe  myself  you  do,  why,  take  it,  and 
welcome. 

"  And  now,  sir,"  said  Saskia,  rising,  and  making 
a  low  and  stately  obeisance,  "it  seems  that  homage 
must  be  paid  to  the  great  man,  the  famous  painter 
of  Amsterdam.  Even  in  Franeker,  sir,  your  name 
was  on  all  lips.  In  truth,  one  reason  for  my  re 
turn  was  that  I  might  see  the  masterpiece  of  which 
all  men  speak,  and  enlist  myself  in  the  vast  com 
pany  of  your  admirers." 

"  Oh  !  Saskia !  Saskia  !  sweet  Saskia  !  I  thank 
you  for  your  forgiveness,  which  I  deserved  not — 
but  I  pray  you  jest  not  with  me,  even  if  you  flat 
ter  in  the  jesting.  I  cannot  bear  that  you  should 
trifle  with  me." 

"  Trifle,  Sir  !  Pray  what  mean  you?  I  did  but 
pay  you  a  pretty  compliment,  and  you  look  as 
sober  as  if  I  had  given  you  a  dose  of  vinegar. 
Pray  what  would  you  have  me  say  ?  " 

"5 


REMBRANDT 

"  Fairest  lady  !  What  you  said  was  sweet  to 
hear.  Any  words  from  those  lips  are  sweet,  even 
if  they  chide.  Surely,  surely  thou  knowest,  Saskia, 
what  words  I  would  hear  from  thee?" 

"  Nay — but  I  know  not  at  all,"  said  Saskia. 
"  Surely  I  forgave  you,  and  spoke  you  fair — too 
fair  in  sooth,  for  really  you  deserved  no  word  at 
all  from  me." 

"  I  know  that.  I  am  indeed  quite  unworthy 
that  you  speak  to  me,  but  in  love  there  is  no  ques 
tion  of  desert,  it  is  life  or  death,  and,  Saskia,  I  love 
you.  My  life  is  in  your  hands.  It  is  yours — all 
yours!  Oh!  beloved!  will  you  take  it?  and  bless 
it,  or  will  you  cast  it  from  you  and  ruin  it?" 

Saskia  blushed  deeply,  and  averted  her  face. 
He  approached  her,  and  kneeling  took  her  hand, 
which  he  ardently  pressed  to  his  lips.  The  little 
hand  trembled,  but  it  was  not  withdrawn.  Not  a 
word  was  spoken  for  a  moment.  Then  Saskia 
turned  and  looked  very  tenderly  full  into  Rem 
brandt's  glorious  eyes. 

"  My  master!  "  she  said,  softly. 

In  an  instant  his  arms  were  about  her  and  he 
had  kissed  her  lips.  Then  her  head  sank  on  his 
shoulder. 

"Ah!  Thou  art  indeed  mine,  thou  little  teas 
ing  fairy.  Wouldst  thou  chide  me  with  thy  jests, 
and  all  thy  playful  ways?  Nay,  my  Saskia  has  a 
deep  true  heart,  and  now  I  know  it  beats  for  me, 
as  mine  for  her  forever.  Oh  !  The  rapture  of  this 
hour !  I  knew  not  life  held  such  bliss  !  My  God, 
what  have  I  done  that  the  treasure  of  this  love 
should  come  to  me?" 

116 


SASKIA   AND   REMBRANDT 

"  Nay,  dearest  Rembrandt,  speak  not  thus. 
Thou  art  to  me  the  greatest  of  men.  Hadst 
thou  not  spoken  to  me  my  heart  would  have 
broken.  There — I  have  told  thee !  and  I  believe 
I  am  no  true  Dutch  maiden.  I  am  too  lightly 
won." 

"  What  meanest  thou  by  such  words,  thou  pearl 
of  women?  So  easily  won,  indeed!  Thou 
naughty  one !  hast  thou  not  been  tearing  my 
heart  in  pieces  all  these  months  ?  Didst  thou  not 
run  away  and  give  me  no  chance  to  see  thee  ? 
Ah1  cruel'  well  thou  knewest,  even  then,  that  I 
loved  thee,  and  yet  how  thou  didst  torture  me." 

Saskia  withdrew  herself  from  her  lover's  em 
brace,  and  the  old  mischief  danced  again  in  the 
eyes  but  now  suffused  with  tears  of  tenderness. 

"  Ah  !  ah  '  sayest  thou  so  !  Now,  fair  sir,  wilt 
thou  kindly  tell  me  what  reason  thou  gavest  me 
to  suppose  that  thou  didst  care  f6"r  me  ?  Is  it  a 
proof  of  love  to  forget  all  about  painting  a  por 
trait  of  the  lady  ?  Now  fie  upon  you." 

"  Nay,  sweet  one,  but  thou  didst  know.  I  am 
sure  my  eyes  told  thee.  I  did  not  dare  to  speak 
at  once,  but  thou  canst  not  say  thou  didst  not 
know.  I  would  have  spoken  in  the  studio  but 
thou  gavest  me  no  chance,  and  fled  with  Hen- 
drik's  wife  the  moment  thou  sawest  what  was  in 
my  heart.  But  what  matters  it,  beloved  ?  Thou 
knowest  now  that  Rembrandt's  love  is  all  thine. 
May  God  bless  the  sweet  lips  that  have  told  me 
thou  wouldst  take  it,  and  give  thine  in  return." 

"  I  have  a  word  to  say  to  thee,  my  lord,"  said 
Saskia.  "  Let  it  not  be  known  that  there  is  any 

117 


REMBRANDT 

word  of  love  between  us  as  yet,  for  I  have  many 
things  to  do,  and  thou  must  wait  for  me  a  long 
time  yet." 

"  Be  it  as  thou  wilt,  my  own.  I  will  wait  as  long 
as  it  seemeth  best  to  thee.  Who  could  not  wait 
happily  with  the  prospect  of  such  a  treasure  glad 
dening  his  heart?  But  I  may  speak  to  Hendrik, 
and  to  Albrecht,  under  pledge  of  secrecy?" 

"  Yes,  thou  mayest  do  that.  In  truth  I  believe  it 
would  be  hard  to  deceive  either  of  them  as  to  this 
matter." 

"And  now,  my  own  beloved,  thou  wilt  grant 
me  a  kiss  before  I  part  from  thee  ?  " 

It  was  the  kiss  of  their  betrothal — the  kiss 
that  comes  but  once,  for  it  is  the  first-fruit  of 
intense  passion.  Then,  with  heart  beating  quick, 
with  flushed  cheeks,  fiery  eyes,  and  the  air  of  a 
conqueror,  Rembrandt  left  the  lady  of  his  love. 
Saskia,  no  less  moved,  could  scarce  calm  the 
tempest  in  her  breast,  nor  did  she  care  to  calm 
it.  She  was  a  true  woman,  and  she  gloried  in 
giving  herself  to  the  man  she  loved  and  who  loved 
her.  She  retired  to  her  chamber  and  gave  her 
self  completely  to  dreaming  of  this  hero,  this 
masterful  man  with  great,  black  eyes — this  great 
and  glorious  painter — this  man  among  men  en 
dowed  with  every  virtue,  who  had  given  all  the 
wealth  of  his  love  to  poor  little  Saskia,  who  was 
nothing  but  a  merry  Friesland  maiden.  Her 
bosom  rose  and  fell  tumultuously  as  she  thought 
of  her  hero,  nor  could  she  by  any  means  still  the 
wild  beating  of  her  heart.  Why  should  he  have 
loved  her.  Kow  could  one  so  great — so  famous 

us 


SASKIA   AND    REMBRANDT 

— give  such  a  treasure  to  her.  "But  no!  I  will 
not  think  thus  of  myself,"  thought  Saskia.  "  He 
loves  me  —  and  that  is  enough  to  dignify  any 
woman.  I  will  seek  to  be  more  sober  and  ser 
ious,  that  I  may  help  him  besides  giving  him  all 
my  love." 

Rembrandt  descended  the  stair,  nearly  turning 
back  at  every  step.  As  he  came  to  the  bottom  he 
went  half  way  up  again,  so  longed  he  to  see  Sas 
kia  once  more,  but  at  last  he  tore  himself  away, 
and  came  into  Hendrik's  shop.  It  was  now  quite 
dark.  The  outer  shutters  were  closed,  and  the 
lamps  were  lighted.  Hendrik  was  dozing  in  his 
chair.  The  labors  of  the  day  were  over  and  good 
Hendrik  dearly  loved  a  nap  when  no  business  was 
pressing  upon  him.  He  woke  up,  however,  when 
Rembrandt  entered,  and  rubbed  his  eyes.  He 
yawned  two  or  three  times,  then  looked  at  Rem 
brandt  and  opened  his  mouth  wide  from  astonish 
ment. 

"Why!  what's  come  over  you,  man?  What 
have  you  been  doing?  Has  Saskia  flagons  of 
Rhenish  ?  You  must  have  been  feasting,  man  !  " 

"  Hush,  Hendrik,  be  quiet,  I  pray  you!  I  have 
something  to  say  to  you." 

"Oho!  Oho!  you  needn't  say  it.  I  see  it  all 
now.  Oh  !  Hendrik  isn't  quite  so  stupid  as  he 
seems.  I  knew  it  would  be  so !  She  wasn't  so 
angry  then,  after  all !  Ha  !  ha  !  I  knew  why  she 
came  back.  Well,  I'm  glad  of  it.  I'm  proud  of 
it !  Why,  I'm  to  be  cousin  to  the  greatest  painter 
of  the  day,  and  I  love  him,  too.  Give  us  your 
hand,  man.  I'm  glad  of  it,  I  say.  Come  in  here 

119 


REMBRANDT 

and  drain  a  goblet  of  my  best.  I  will  not  take  no 
for  an  answer.  Come,  I  say,"  and  the  jovial  Hen- 
drik  fairly  dragged  Rembrandt  into  the  dining- 
room.  He  produced  the  very  best  wine  he  had. 
"  Stand,  sir,  and  clink  your  glass  with  mine. 
Here's  to  Rembrandt  and  Saskia,  the  finest  pair 
in  all  Amsterdam." 

It  was  some  time  before  Rembrandt  could  say  a 
word,  so  overjoyed  and  so  voluble  was  Hendrik. 
At  last,  however,  he  managed  to  tell  him  that  the 
engagement  was  not  to  be  spoken  of  at  present, 
because  the  marriage,  so  Saskia  had  said,  could 
not  take  place  for  some  time. 

"  As  you  will,  my  friend,  ha!  ha!  my  cousin  1 
mean.  Hendrik  is  mum,  oh!  yes,  quite  mum. 
Hendrik's  wife  will  know.  Saskia  will  tell  her. 
That  can't  be  helped." 

"Oh,  yes!  I  suppose  so,  but,  mind  you,  Hen 
drik,  it  goes  no  farther,  for  Saskia  has  so  said-. 
And  now  I  must  go,  for  it  is  getting  late." 

"  Not  without  another  bumper,  my  friend,  you 
dare  not  refuse  me  in  pledging  again  your  health 
and  hers,  and  all  happiness  to  you  both.  In  good 
sooth,  ye  both  deserve  it.  So  think  I,  and  so  I 
trow  it  will  be.  Drain  your  glass,  man." 

Rembrandt  could  not  refuse  at  such  a  time,  and 
ithe  toast  was  drunk.  Directly  afterward  the  paint 
er  took  his  way  back  to  the  studio.  It  was  a  won- 
<der  that  he  did  not  get  lost.  The  world  without 
-was  almost  unseen.  He  was  living  in  a  deeper 
world  within.  This  was  Rembrandt's  first  passion 
for  a  woman.  His  devotion  to  his  work  had  ex 
cluded  even  the  light  fancies  which  at  times  pos- 


SASKIA   AND   REMBRANDT 

sess  the  hearts  of  all  young  men.  Dreams  and 
thoughts,  all  new  and  strange,  chased  each  other 
through  his  eager  brain ;  emotions — tender,  soft, 
delicious,  never  dreamed  of  before,  swept  over  his 
heart  like  slowly  heaving  waves  rising  and  falling 
beneath  the  touch  of  some  fair  breeze  from  un 
known  lands  where  fairies  dwelt.  He  knew  not 
what  had  come  over  him,  nor  did  he  care  to  know. 
He  yielded  himself  utterly  to  this  blind  delight  of 
loving  and  being  loved.  Art  and  all  else  were 
for  the  time  quite  forgotten,  and  he  simply  lived 
in  Saskia.  Such  was  his  temperament.  There 
seemed  never  to  be  anything  that  could  interfere 
with  his  central  thought.  All  the  intensity  of  his 
nature  seemed  to  concentrate  itself  on  one  thing 
at  a  time. 

He  reached  the  studio  at  last,  though  it  is  a 
wonder  he  ever  did  find  it.  It  was  more  instinct, 
than  any  conscious  choosing  of  his  way,  among 
the  narrow  streets  and  along  the  winding  canals. 

By  this  time  it  was  late — long  past  the  usual 
hour  for  supper,  and  Albrecht  was  getting  very 
impatient.  In  justice  to  this  loyal  friend,  be  it 
said  that  he  was  thinking  not  alone  about  his  de 
layed  supper,  but  also  about  what  'might  have 
happened  to  Rembrandt.  He  was  almost  as  much 
interested  in  his  friend's  love-affair  as  his  own. 
He  was  overjoyed  when  the  door  opened  and 
Rembrandt  entered,  for  he  saw  at  the  first  glance 
that  all  was  well. 

Rising  quickly  from  his  chair  by  the  big  fire 
place,  Albrecht  strode  across  the  room  with  hand 
outstretched  and  grasped  Rembrandt's  hand. 


REMBRANDT 

"  You  need  not  say  a  word,  my  dear,  dear  friend  ! 
Why,  it  is  written  all  over  your  face !  I  believe 
everyone  in  the  streets  must  have  read  the  news 
as  you  passed  on.  Quite  unnecessary  to  give  any 
further  public  notice  of  this  happy  event.  From 
my  heart  I  wish  you  joy,  and  I  wish  her  joy,  for 
indeed,  I  believe  her  the  most  fortunate  of  women 
to  have  won  the  love  of  my  friend,  my  hero,  my 
greatest  of  painters,  my  most  famous  of  Dutch 
men  !'" 

"  Hush,  Albrecht.  How  dare  you  speak  thus  of 
Saskia?  Know  now  and  always  that  I  am  not 
worthy  to  touch  the  hem  of  her  garment.  But 
forgive  me  !  Indeed,  I  know  you  spoke  from  the 
depth  of  your  heart's  affection,  and  I  should  have 
thanked  you  rather  than  chided  you  ;  but  Saskia  is 
an  angel  of  goodness,  and  a  goddess  of  beauty  and 
love.  The  treasure  of  her  tenderness  is  priceless, 
and  there  is  no  man  worthy  to  possess  it.  Never 
theless,  it  is  true,  Albrecht,  that  she  has  given  me, 
unworthy  though  1  am,  that  treasure.  I  am  hum 
bled  at  the  thought  of  it,  although  I  am  nearly 
mad  with  joy  as  you  have  seen." 

"Well,  well,  dear  Rembrandt,  I  rejoice  with 
you  from  the  very  bottom  of  my  heart.  And  now 
are  you  so  well  fed  with  the  sweets  of  love  that 
bodily  cravings  of  hunger  assail  you  not?" 

"Oh!  it  is  supper-time,  I  suppose,  I  had  not 
thought  of  that.  Why  did  you  not  make  them 
serve  you,  Albrecht?  There  was  no  need  to  wait 
for  me.  In  sooth  I  care  for  nothing,  I  believe. 
There  are  better  things  in  this  world  than  eating 
and  drinking.  Nevertheless  these  are  painful  ne- 

122 


SASKIA  AND   REMBRANDT 

cessities.  Here,  Jan,  make  ready  at  once  for  Herr 
Albrecht  and  myself.  Why  did  you  not  serve  him 
before,  you  idiot?" 

"Because,  master,  he  did  not  ask  me  to  ;  no  he 
didn't ;  and  I  didn't  know  he  wanted  it,  no  I  didn't, 
and  how  should  I  know  when  he  said  naught  and 
not  a  word  said  he  ?  But  it's  all  ready,  master. 
So  it  is." 

"  Go,  then,  stupid,  and  fetch  some  of  that  red 
wine  from  France,  and  put  the  big  carved  tank 
ards  on  the  table,  Herr  Albrecht  wants  to  drink 
my  health." 

All  was  soon  prepared.  In  spite  of  his  con 
temptuous  remarks  about  the  good  things  of  the 
table,  Rembrandt  both  ate  and  drank,  though  very 
sparingly.  He  told  Albrecht  what  had  happened, 
and  how  he  believed  that  the  pride  Saskia  had 
felt  in  the  success  of  the  "  Anatomy  Lesson  "  had 
brought  her  back  to  Amsterdam,  and  made  her 
willing  to  see  him  and  forgive  him. 

"  Ah,  Albrecht,  it  was  a  lucky  day  when  you 
and  I  got  into  the  dissecting-room,  and  saw  the 
doctor  and  his  pupils  at  their  work." 


123 


CHAPTER  XVI 

Lazarus 

IN  a  house  in  the  Jew  quarter  on  the  Breede- 
straat,  not  far  from  the  five-towered  gate  of 
St.  Anthony,  lived  a  Jew  named  Lazarus.  At  this 
time  he  was  a  man  about  thirty,  and  had  acquired 
considerable  money  in  various  kinds  of  business, 
more  or  less  reputable,  but  not  nearly  enough  to 
content  him.  He  had  a  friend,  and  in  a  way  a 
partner,  whose  name  was  Isaac. 

"  These  men  were  sitting  together  one  day 
shortly  after  the  exhibition  of  Rembrandt's  "  Anat 
omy  Lesson"  in  the  Town  Hall.  Both  of  them 
had  seen  the  picture,  and,  like  every  one  else  in 
Amsterdam,  they  knew  of  the  painter's  already 
achieved  fame.  Lazarus  was  a  very  shrewd  man, 
and  Isaac  was  not  far  behind  him  in  shrewdness. 
Lazarus  thought  there  might  be  a  chance  to  make 
some  money  out  of  this  young  painter.  It  was 
clear  that  he  must  be  getting  much  money,  for  his 
studio  was  thronged  with  sitters.  The  question 
was,  how  to  make  him  spend  it,  and  in  such  a  way 
that  a  goodly  share  of  it  would  flow  into  the  Jew's 
coffers. 

Lazarus  had  made  some  little  study  of  Rem 
brandt,  and  had  found  out  that  he  was  quite  care 
less  about  money,  and  was  most  easily  tempted  to 

124 


LAZARUS 

spend  it  on  prints  or  pictures.  There  might  he 
profit  in  tempting  him  still  further  in  this  direc 
tion. 

"  Now,  Isaac,"  said  Lazarus, "  what  do  you  think 
of  this  Rembrandt,  that  fellow  that  painted  that 
great  picture  in  the  Hall,  that  one  we  saw  the 
other  day?" 

"  Well.  Lazarus,  I  know  not  how  good  it  is,  but 
1  have  been  told  he  was  a  very  grand  painter,  and 
I  think  that  is  about  all  I  know." 

"  I  am  ashamed  of  you,  Isaac !  Why,  that  is  a 
great  man,  and  such  men  like  those — they  are 
the  men  to  make  rich  the  children  of  Israel ! 
When  a  man  is  great  like  that  in  one  way,  see 
you,  he  will  sure  be  weak  in  some  other  way. 
God  be  thanked !  I  know  already  where  he 
is  weak.  Isaac !  I  will  buy  some  great  pict 
ures  !  and  I  will  buy  them  cheap.  Yes,  that 
can  I  do.  I  know  well  where  I  can  find  a  Rubens 

v 

that  is  grand,  and  the  man  that  owns  that 
painting — he  is  in  debt,  and  I  can  buy  that  pict 
ure  dirt  cheap.  Was  your  eye  open  now,  Isaac?" 

"  Ah  !  my  friend,"  said  Isaac.  "  The  children 
of  Israel  will  not  be  poor  while  the  God  of  Abra 
ham  spares  to  them  a  spirit  like  that  of  Lazarus. 
My  friend !  that  idea  is  grand !  Wish  you  that 
I  help  you  ?" 

"  Why  not,  Isaac?  Gold  must  I  have.  There 
is  not  enough  in  mine  own  chest.  That  Rubens 
comes  not  for  nothing.  No  matter  if  the  man 
that  had  it  was  ruined.  I  will  get  it  cheap,  but 
I  must  give  at  least  the  half  of  its  worth.  Go 
fetch  me  one  thousand  florins." 

125 


REMBRANDT 

"  Ah,  my  God  !  Lazarus  !  Where  could  I  get 
that  gold?  I  am  poor.  I  am  at  great  expenses 
at  my  business." 

"  That's  very  well,  Isaac  !  I  know  all  about 
that,  and  I  know  also  that  there  is  more  than  ten 
thousand  florins  in  your  chest  now." 

"God  of  Abraham,"  said  Isaac,  trembling. 
"  How  know  you  that  ?  " 

"  Now,  my  friend,  it  is  not  good  to  try  to  lie 
to  me.  I  know  what  I  speak  about.  Go  get  the 
gold  and  I  will  give  you  one-quarter  of  the 
profits  that  I  will  make  from  the  painter  Rem 
brandt,  and  you  will  be  thankful.  Go  quickly." 

And  Isaac  went.  It  was  ill  arguing  with  Laza 
rus.  He  was  thoroughly  well-informed,  natu 
rally  extremely  shrewd,  and,  moreover,  almost 
uniformly  successful  in  his  ventures.  Isaac  was 
perfectly  well  aware  that  he  could  make  money 
out  of  anything  from  which  Lazarus  could  get 
gain,  and  while  he  would  have  liked  a  larger 
share,  nevertheless,  half  a  loaf  is  better  than 
no  bread.  Grumbling  and  muttering  to  himself 
he  went  to  his  own  house,  which  was  a  little 
farther  down  the  Breedestraat,  and  went  up  the 
narrow  stairs,' as  quietly  as  he  could  to  the  attic, 
in  the  darkest  corner  of  which  he  kept  his  great 
coffer.  It  was  true  that  there  were  ten  thousand 
florins  in  it.  It  was  also  true  that  there  was  a 
great  deal  more,  besides  —  precious  stones  in 
plenty.  There  were  several  padlocks  on  the  great 
iron  coffer.  Isaac  took  the  keys  from  a  little 
bag  which  he  always  carried  attached  to  his  gir 
dle  under  his  gaberdine.  He  glanced  around  in 

126 


LAZARUS 

every  direction  to  see,  if  perchance  anyone  had 
followed  him — but  no!  all  was  quiet.  He  and  his 
coffer  were  alone  in  the  dark  attic.  With  trem 
bling-  fingers,  he  unlocked  paldock  after  padlock, 
and  opened  the  coffer.  From  the  store  of  shin 
ing  gold  pieces  he  took  the  thousand  florins  that 
Lazarus  had  demanded,  then  relocked  all  care 
fully,  put  the  keys  back  in  the  little  bag,  put  the 
gold  in  another  little  bag,  which  he  had  brought 
for  the  purpose,  then  crept  quietly  across  the 
attic  to  the  door,  locked  that,  and  stole  down  the 
stairs.  No  one  had  heard  him.  He  felt  sure  of 
that.  There  was  no  one  in  the  house,  except  the 
old  waiting-woman  and  the  cook,  and  they  were 
fast  asleep  in  the  kitchen. 

Isaac  went  back  to  Lazarus's  house.  As  he  went 
he  muttered,  "  I  wonder  how  that  man  knew  I  had 
that  gold!  Does  he  watch  me,  I  wonder?  And 
has  he  found  out  where  is  my  coffer?  I  like  it 
not  at  all." 

"  Well,  my  friend,"  said  Lazarus,  as  Isaac  came 
in.  "  You  have  brought  the  gold.  I  see  that  is 
a  good  fat  bag  that  swells  out  under  your  cloak." 

"Ah!  my  God!  my  God!  Was  that  so  easy 
to  see  ?  Why,  I  might  have  been  robbed  in  the 
streets." 

"  Well,  you  weren't  robbed,  friend  Isaac,  and  in 
Heaven's  name  what  is  the  use  of  shaking  and 
trembling  that  way  about  what  never  happened. 
Stop  your  shaking,  or  by  the  Lord  I'll  give  you 
something  to  make  you  shake — and  count  me  out 
that  gold  here  just  so  quick  as  you  can." 

Isaac  did  not  stop  trembling.  On  the  contrary 
127 


REMBRANDT 

he  trembled  all  the  more,  and  his  hand  shook  so, 
that  the  counting  was  a  difficult  matter.  How 
ever,  it  was  accomplished  at  last  with  Lazarus's 
good  help.  Then  Lazarus  drew  up  an  agreement, 
acknowledging  the  receipt  of  this  money  from 
Isaac,  and  specifying  that  Isaac  was  to  receive 
one-fourth  of  the  profits  of  the  enterprise  in  which 
it  was  to  be  used.  The  enterprise  itself  was  not 
described  in  the  paper,  nor  c6uld  it  be  inferred 
from  anything  in  it,  because  it  simply  said  that 
Lazarus  was  to  use  the  money  as  had  been  agreed 
upon  between  the  parties.  It  was  a  safe,  discreet, 
and  binding  document  as  between  the  two.  The 
courts  might  take  another  view  of  it.  Both 
parties  signed  it,  and  the  campaign  of  the  Jews 
against  Rembrandt  was  fairly  opened. 

"That  was  all  right,"  said  Lazarus.  "I  will 
lose  no  time.  I  go  my  way  direct  to  that  man 
who  has  the  Rubens.  I  hope  I  am  not  too  late. 
When  I  get  that  picture  I  will  bring  it  here,  and 
will  go  to  the  studio  of  this  fine  painter  and  I 
shall  tell  him  all  about  it.'" 

Lazarus  departed  forthwith  on  his  errand.  He 
was  not  too  late.  The  Rubens,  which  was  reallv 
a  very  fine  example,  was  not  yet  sold,  and  in  truth 
the  bankrupt  merchant  who  owned  it  was  in  great 
trouble  because  he  had  not  found  a  purchaser. 
When  his  trouble  and  need  and  Lazarus's  shrewd 
ness  and  craft  are  put  together,  it  is  not  hard  to 
understand  how  the  Jew  got  the  picture  for  less 
than  a  quarter  of  its  value.  He  did  not  need  to 
use  Isaac's  thousand  florins  at  all,  for  he  had 
brought  enough  of  his  own  to  pay  for  the  picture 

128 


LAZARUS 

at  the  ridiculous  price  to  which  he  had  forced  the 
poor  merchant. 

Lazarus  took  the  picture  and  went  back  to 
his  house  in  the  Breedestraat.  As  he  went  he 
said,  "  Well,  now  I  am  glad  that  Isaac  was  not 
with  me  there.  I  can  make  that  picture's  price 
what  I  please,  I  think.  He  was  a  fool,  that  Isaac. 
He  might  as  well  have  given  me  his  money,  he 
made  it  so  plain  he  had  it.  I  hope  that  painter, 
Rembrandt,  is  just  so  big  a  fool.  If  that  is  so,  my 
God  !  my  fortune  is  made,  for  that  painter  he  will 
roll  in  moneys  for  a  good  while  yet." 

Lazarus's  heart  was  full  of  joy  as  he  entered  his 
house,  and  placed  the  Rubens  in  the  front  room 
near  the  window.  It  was  not  a  large  example, 
but  it  was  a  very  choice  one,  and  would  surely 
tempt  Rembrandt  because  of  its  quality,  and 
the  comparatively  small  sum  of  money  for  which 
it  could  be  bought.  Lazarus  lost  no  time,  but  set 
off  directly  for  Rembrandt's  studio.  Interest  was 
running  against  him,  and  he  hastened.  The  ar 
tist  was  within,  but  he  was  very. busy.  He  had 
a  sitter  and  could  not  be  interrupted.  Ah  !  well ! 
Lazarus  would  wait,  though  he  did  not  enjoy 
that  in  the  least.  It  was  a  long  waiting — but  at 
length  the  studio-door  opened,  and  a  noble  look 
ing  young  man  came  out  followed  by  the  painter 
himself. 

"  Most  noble  Van  Dort,"  said  Rembrandt,  "  if 
you  will  give  me  one  more  sitting,  to-morrow,  I 
think  I  can  finish  the  picture." 

"  As  you  will,  Mynheer  Rembrandt,"  said  the 
famous  admiral.  "  I  will  come  in  the  morning." 

129 


REMBRANDT 

"  It  is  well.  Farewell,  my  lord.  I  will  be  at 
your  service  on  the  morrow." 

The  admiral  wrapped  his  cloak  around  him,  and 
strode  out,  hardly  seeing-  the  Jew  who  was  sitting 
in  the  corridor  in  the  same  high-backed  chair  in 
which  Saskia  once  had  sat.  Rembrandt  followed 
the  great  man  to  the  door,  opened  it  for  him,  and 
bowed  low  as  he  took  his  departure.  In  those  days 
there  were  few,  indeed,  more  highly  esteemed 
in  Amsterdam  than  the  admirals,  whose  genius 
and  indomitable  courage  had  done  so  much  to 
promote  the  greatness  of  the  Low  Countries.  Af 
ter  closing  the  door  Rembrandt  turned  to  the 
Jew,  who  had  risen  from  the  chair  and  was  bow 
ing  low,  too  low,  as  Rembrandt  thought. 

"  I  think,  sir,  I  have  not  the  pleasure  of  your 
acquaintance.  Do  you  desire  aught  with  me?" 

"  I  would  not  disturb  you,  sir,  for  well  I  know 
your  time  is  precious." 

"  You  do  not  disturb  me.  Can  you  not  see,  I 
have  just  finished  a  sitting?  But  what  is  your 
name,  and  why  are  you  here?" 

"  My  name  is  Lazarus.  I  live  in  the  Breed  e- 
straat,  and  have  heard  of  the  great  Rembrandt,  and 
have  seen  that  grand  picture,  the  "  Lesson  in 
Anatomy."  My  God  !  what  a  work  is  that  ?  That 
makes  all  Holland  great.  I  was  told  that  the 
painter  loved  beautiful  pictures  and  prints,  and  I 
came  to  tell  him  about  a  most  wonderful  little 
picture  by  Rubens  that  I  found  myself,  and  I  can 
sell  it  cheap,  for  I  got  it  by  an  accident,  I  will  tell 
you  all  about  that.  But  if  I  might  ask  so  much, 
would  you  come  and  see  that  picture?" 

130 


THE   ACCOUNTANT 
(LAZARUS) 


LAZARUS 

"  A  fine  example  of  Rubens,  you  say?  Of 
course,  I  will  go  to  see  it,  but  as  to  buying  it — 
that  would  be  far  beyond  my  means,  if  it  is  really 
what  you  claim." 

"  Oh,  as  to  that,  master,  we  can  speak  later.  If 
that  picture  pleases  you,  you  will  find  that  Laza 
rus,  although  he  is  a  Jew,  will  be  most  liberal,  and 
will  make  just  such  arrangements  as  you  like 
about  the  payments.  But  you  will  honor  me  to 
go  to  my  house  and  see  that  great  Rubens?  " 

"  Yes !  yes  !  I  will  go  with  you  directly.  It 
so  happens  that  I  have  not  another  sitter  for  an 
hour." 

So  the  Jew  and  the  painter  went  together  to 
the  Breedestraat.  Rembrandt  saw  the  Rubens 
and  was  captivated  by  it,  as  well  he  might  be,  for 
it  was  a  most  splendid  piece  of  color  and  drawing. 
The  Jew  did  not  wish  to  press  his  victim  too  hard 
at  first,  since  he  had  strong  hopes  of  future  gain, 
and  was  willing  to  wait.  He,  therefore,  asked 
only  four  times  what  he  had  paid  for  the  picture, 
and  really  it  was  cheap  at  that. 

"  But  I  have  not  so  much  money.  What  do 
you  think  of  me  ?  I  am  a  struggling  painter,  just 
beginning,"  said  Rembrandt. 

"  Oh,  that  matters  not  about  the  money.  You 
take  the  picture.  You  give  me  your  writing  for 
the  amount.  What  for  do  you  think  of  the  money  ? 
You  will  have  more  than  you  can  spend  in  a  little 
while.  What !  This  famous  Rembrandt  care 
about  a  few  thousand  florins !  Why,  he  will  be 
the  richest  man  in  Amsterdam  in  a  little  time." 

Rembrandt  yielded,  nor  was  it  the  first  time. 
131 


REMBRANDT 

Already  he  had  bought  many  of  A-lbrecht's  prints 
— already  rich  furniture,  beautiful  vases  and 
glasses,  fine  tapestries  and  specimens  of  armor 
were  filling  his  studio.  In  excuse  for  him,  it  may 
be  said  that  he  was  soon  to  marry  and  would  need 
these  things,  but  he  never  stopped  to  count  the 
cost. 


132 


CHAPTER    XVII 

Hildegarde  von  Lebenthal  to  Undine  von  Klar- 
brunnen 

A   LETTER 

MY  own  dearest,  how  can  I  tell  you  all  that 
has  happened  ?  Now,  how  much  do  you 
know,  I  wonder,  and  how  can  I  tell  how  much 
you  know?  But,  well,  I  know  how  much  you 
want  to  know — everything,  of  course!  What 
would  woman's  curiosity  be  worth  if  it  stopped 
short  of  knowing  it  all  ?  That  same  curiosity  is 
a  great  power  in  the  world.  It  keeps  us  women 
wide  awake.  We  could  not  do  without  it.  As  it 
is,  there  is  a  keenness  about  us  which  a  clumsy 
man  can  never  evade.  But,  dear  me,  I  am  philos 
ophizing.  You  never  thought  of  your  Hilde 
garde  as  a  philosopher,  philosopheress,  I  meant  to 
say,  now,  did  you  ?  Ah !  but  this  is  tantalizing,  I 
am  sure.  Perhaps  I  meant  it  to  be.  Who  knows? 
Maybe  I  could  whet  your  appetite,  but  I  tell  you 
now,  I  will  give  you  enough  to  satisfy  it,  keen 
whetted  though  it  be.  Perhaps  I  might  as  well 
begin,  since  I  have  promised  so  much,  for  if  you 
do  not  begin,  how  are  you  going  to  end  ?  and  the 
one  is  as  trying  as  the  other  for  women,  you  know. 
Perhaps  the  beginning  is  harder,  because  it  is  try- 

133 


REMBRANDT 

ing  to  give  to  others  what  is  known  only  to  one's 
self,  and  yet,  ending  is  hard,  too,  for  there  is 
always  so  much  to  say.  I  wonder  how  many 
last  words  there  will  be  to  this  letter.  Enough 
of  this — I  must  begin  —  hard  as  it  is.  Know 
then,  that  I  escaped  from  my  father's  castle  with 
out  any  trouble.  He^  thought  not  that  I  would 
dare  do  such  a  thing,  but  he  little  knew  how 
hateful  Count  Swanenburg  was  to  me.  I  re 
fused  to  marry  him,  but  my  father  was  forcing  me 
into  his  arms.  He  would  have  kept  me  a  pris 
oner  until  I  consented,  if  I  had  not  escaped  as  I 
did.  Oh!  he  had  his  reasons;  I  knew  them  well. 
It's  just  the  old  story,  added  wealth  and  power 
from  the  marriage — and  what  counts  the  daugh 
ter's  happiness?  Oh!  it's  too  old  to  tell  about. 
You  have  heard  it  a  thousand  times,  and  so  had  I. 
Seeing  what  was  coming  I  bribed  old  Marjorie 
and  Wilhelm,  the  groom,  and  one  dark  night  we 
all  galloped  away  from  the  castle.  You  know 
every  road  about  Nuremberg  is  familiar  to  me, 
and  I  had  no  trouble,  even  in  the  night,  in  com 
ing  to  a  good  hostelry  where  I  had  been  with  my 
father.  I  had  to  use  money  here  also  lest  they 
should  send  word  back  to  the  castle  about  my 
being  there.  Now,  my  purpose  was  to  get  to  Am 
sterdam.  Why?  I  hear  you  asking.  Do  you  not 
remember  my  Cousin  Hildebrand  ?  I  am  sure  you 
do.  He  was  infatuated  with  art,  and  long  ago  he 
went  to  Holland,  and  as  I  thought  to  Amsterdam 
—that  he  might  study  in  the  great  art  centre.  If 
I  could  get  quietly  to  the  big  Dutch  town,  and  find 
him  we  might  manage  to  live  in  some  quiet  way. 

134 


HILDEGARDE   TO   UNDINE 

Be  patient,  for  I  must  describe  my  adventures. 
They  weren't  so  very  terrible  after  all.  Good 
fortune  was  with  us  and  we  met  none  of  those  rov 
ing  bands  of  free-booters  that  infest  the  land  dur 
ing-  these  fearful  wars  that  seem  as  if  they  would 
never  end.  Why  in  the  world  do  men  wish  to  be 
forever  cutting  each  other's  throats  ?  We  travelled 
mostly  by  night,  and  sometimes  I  was  in  fear  lest 
we  should  lose  our  way,  but  I  feared  not  very 
much,  for  we  were  on  the  high  road  leading  to 
Holland,  which  had  been  much  used  by  the  sol 
diers  on  both  sides,  and  it  was  easy  to  follow  it 
even  at  night.  The  moon  shone  upon  us  and 
there  was  another  piece  of  good  fortune.  I  feared 
\ve  might  be  stopped  at  the  boundary,  but  Wil- 
helm  rode  ahead  and  he  found  that  the  Dutch 
guards  had  been  carousing,  and  were  sound  asleep. 
We  muffled  the  horses'  hoofs,  and  passed  the 
guards  all  unperceived. 

Oh,  dearest  friend — sister,  let  me  call  you  !  for 
you  are  the  only  sister  I  have,  you  will  never 
know  the  excitement  of  those  midnight  rides.  I 
cannot  possibly  tell  you,  for  it  looks  like  a  dream. 
But  they  let  us  in  at  last,  through  the  big  gate  of  St. 
Anthony  with  its  five  towers — not  until  after  they 
had  searched  us  quite  too  closely  to  be  agreeable, 
and  made  me  tell  the  reason  of  my  coming,  which 
I  did  not  wish  to  tell.  The  officer  of  the  guard 
seemed  a  good-hearted  man,  and  when  he  had 
heard  my  story,  he  was  really  friendly  and  even 
directed  me  to  a  place  where  I  could  find  lodg 
ings  in  a  very  quiet  little  street.  I  had  money 
with  me.  You  know  my  mother's  money  came 

135 


REMBRANDT 

to  me  and  I  had  her  jewels  and  my  own.  I  was 
truly  well  provided  for,  nor  shall  I  lack  anything 
for  a  long  time  to  come.  Your  Hilclegarde  may  be 
romantic,  but  she  does  not  wish  to  starve,  and  took 
good  care  that  no  such  dire  calamity  could  happen. 
Here  in  Amsterdam  they  know  more  about  dia 
monds  than  anywhere  else  in  the  world.  I  took 
one  of  my  rings  to  a  dealer  in  gems  here  the  other 
day,  and  the  price  he  put  on  it  really  surprised  me, 
both  because  of  the  large  sum  he  was  ready  to  give 
and  the  honesty  of  the  Dutchman  in  so  frankly 
confessing  the  value  of  the  stone.  I  did  not  sell 
it  because  I  did  not  need  money  then — but  it  is  a 
pleasant  feeling  to  know  you  can  get  it  when  you 
want  it.  But  why  am  I  talking  about  things  so 
prosaic  as  money,  when  I  am  fairly  on  fire  with 
the  spirit  of  adventure.  Rather  odd — a  lone 
damsel  going  about  Amsterdam  streets,  and  along 
the  canals  in  search  of  a  young  man!  It  is  most 
interesting!  That  odious  count  can  never  find 
me  here,  nor  would  my  father  dream  that  I  could 
play  so  mad  a  prank.  I  confess  though,  to  you, 
dearest,  that  I  am  becoming  just  a  wee  bit  timo 
rous.  You  see  the  first  excitement  of  my  flight 
and  escape  has  subsided  a  little,  and  I  have  not 
yet  found  Hildebrancl,  and  I  am  all  alone  except 
for  Marjorie  and  Wilhelm.  I  can't  take  them 
about  the  streets  with  me — they  look  so  queer  and 
different  from  the  people  here.  We  would  have 
a  crowd  about  us  in  a  minute.  So  I  go  alone,  but 
I  wear  a  hood  and  draw  my  cloak  close  about  my 
face. 

.1  have  been  several  times  in  search  of  Hilde- 
136 


HILDEGARDE  TO   UNDINE 

brand.  I  went  to  the  art  shop  of  one  Hen- 
drik,  who  is  noted  here  as  an  art  dealer ;  I  made 
a  pretence  of  buying  prints,  but  I  thought  Hilde- 
brand  might  be  there  because  he  is  such  a  lover 
of  art — and,  therefore,  I  looked  about  me  most 
keenly,  and  I  asked  a  question  or  two  very  guard 
edly.  The  answers  convinced  me  that  my  cousin* 
was  not  there,  but  he  might  have  been — and  might 
come  again.  I  dared  not  question  too  closely.  I 
went  again,  and  that  time  there  was  a  young  man 
in  the  shop  whom  I  have  seen  before.  I  am  sure 
of  it,  though  I  cannot,  for  the  life  of  me,  re 
member  where.  1  am  sure  he  is  a  German,  and 
he  is  the  noblest-looking  man  I  ever  saw.  Now 
don't  laugh  because  I  said  "  noblest  looking." 
That  is  what  I  mean.  He  had  the  face  of  a  poet, 
and  aren't  poets  always  noble  looking?  Dear 
me!  What  am  I  saying?  You  will  think  I  have 
fallen  in  love,  and  you'll  never  be  more  mistaken 
in  your  life  than  in  thinking  such  a  thought.  I 
suppose  I  can  admire  the  beauty  of  a  face  even 
if  it  is  a  man's  without  such  suspicions,  can't  I? 
But  I  forgot  you  haven't  accused  me  of  anything 
yet,  and  I  assure  you  there  is  no  reason.  Then  I 
thought  perhaps  my  cousin  might  be  in  the  studio 
of  the  famous  Rembrandt  who  has  of  late  become 
the  talk  of  this  town,  so  I  thought  I  would  go 
there  and  wait  around  awhile  toward  evening 
when  the  students  would  be  coming  out,  and  per 
haps  thus  I  might  chance  upon  Hildebrand.  This 
I  did,  but  in  doing  it  I  had  an  adventure  indeed, 
one  that  wellnigh  shrivelled  up  all  my  courage 
within  me,  and  made  me  tremble  from  head  to 

13? 


REMBRANDT 

foot.  I  was  standing  at  the  corner — not  far  from 
the  studio  of  Rembrandt,  when  suddenly  a  man 
came  toward  me  from  behind.  I  could  hear  his 
footsteps  becoming  more  and  more  rapid  as  he 
neared  me.  I  walked  away  as  fast  as  I  possibly 
could,  but  my  heart  was  sinking  and  my  knees 
trembling.  I  made  poor  work  of  the  walking  and 
the  man  rapidly  gained  on  me.  I  did  succeed 
in  reaching  the  great  place  in  front  of  the  town- 
hall,  and  there  I  plucked  up  a  little  heart,  for 
I  knew  the  guild-house  of  the  Civic  Guard  was 
at  hand,  and  I  could  call  assistance.  So  I 
turned  and  boldly  faced  my  pursuer.  I  told 
him  in  very  plain  terms  what  I  thought  of  him, 
and  asked  him  if  he  was  a  fair  specimen  of 
the  gentlefolk  of  Amsterdam.  He  went  quickly 
away,  fearful  of  the  guard,  but  oh  !  Undine  !  I 
wish  he  had  stayed  longer !  What  a  face  he  had  ! 
such  eyes — great  and  dark  and  deep — brown  curls 
falling  on  his  shoulders !  Now,  I  haven't  fallen 
in  love  with  two  men  at  once,  and  I  haven't  fallen 
in  love  even  with  one.  The  German  was  the 
more  beautiful,  more  poetic,  but  this  other !  ah ! 
well !  I  hardly  know  what  to  say  about  him. 
There  was  a  sense  of  power,  some  mysterious 
light  of  genius  in  his  eyes.  I  never  saw  a  face 
like  that.  I  wonder,  I  wonder,  could  it  be?  I 
never  thought  of  it  till  now — perhaps,  perhaps  it 
was  the  great  Rembrandt  himself !  and  yet,  no, 
surely  he  would  not  be  so  unmannerly  as  thus  to 
follow  an  unprotected  maiden  in  the  streets. 

So  you  see,  my  own  dearest,  your  wandering  sis 
ter  is  having  adventures  with  a  vengeance.     This 

138 


HILDEGARDE   TO   UNDINE 

man  that  followed  me  spoke  of  some  German  here 
who  was  trying  to  find  where  I  lived — a  friend  of 
his — and  he  was  helping  his  friend  to  search  for  me. 
Now,  really,  this  is  most  interesting.  If  I  don't 
find  Hildebrand  pretty  soon  I  may  have  another 
protector,  whether  I  like  it  or  not,  unless  I  am 
careful.  I  don't  like  this  being  tracked  and  hunted 
by  strange  men,  and  yet  there  is  something  rather 
inspiring  about  it  after  all.  If  a  poor  girl  is  pur 
sued  like  that,  why  there  must  be  something  at 
tractive  about  her.  She  can't  but  think  that  is 
true  and  it  is  a  pleasant  thought.  Oh!  we  women 
all  like  to  stroke  our  pretty  plumage  sometimes 
and  gloat  over  the  gleaming  colors  and  graceful 
forms  that  we  know  make  us  lovely  in  the  eyes  of 
that  curious — but,  on  the  whole,  attractive  creat 
ure —  man.  We  are  very  weak,  but  we  confess  it 
only  to  ourselves  and  dearest  friends.  Neverthe 
less,  this  particular  bird  is  frightened  and  has  not 
the  slightest  idea  of  being  caught.  She  has  just 
escaped  a  cage  that  might  have  imprisoned  her 
for  life,  and  she  values  her  freedom  too  much  to 
surrender  it  lightly.  Now,  if  I  don't  find  Hilde 
brand  pretty  soon  I  shall  disguise  myself  in  some 
way. 

I'm  not  sure  yet  just  what  I  shall  do,  but  as 
soon  as  I  know  I  will  write  you  again,  dearest 
sister.  Meanwhile  think  of  me  as  a  lone  damsel 
in  a  tower  with  knights  strumming  their  guitars 
outside,  and  quite  ready  to  lay  lance  in  rest,  if 
need  be,  for  the  unknown  fair  one.  Oh  !  it  is 
quite  dangerous,  I  know,  but  it  is  thrillingly 
romantic,  and  I  am  not  a  bit  afraid — not  now  I 

139 


REMBRANDT 

mean — perhaps  I  was  frightened  in  the  street  when 
the  stranger  with  the  great  eyes  followed  me.  But 
that  danger  is  passed.  Sometimes  I  verily  believe 
I  wish  it  had  not  passed  and  sometimes  I  wish  1 
knew  more  about  the  German.  Indeed  he  had  a 
rarely  noble  face  and  a  most  courtly  bearing.  All 
this  is  so  interesting  to  me  that  I  have  written  you 
a  letter  long  enough  to  put  you  to  sleep  a  dozen 
times.  Forgive  me,  dearest,  and  write  me  soon 
and  tell  me  how  poor  father  and  that  odious  count 
feel  about  my  sudden  departure.  I  am  sorry  for 
the  father,  though  he  was  hard  and  cruel  to  me, 
but  I  am  rejoiced  beyond  measure  that  I  am  be 
yond  the  reach  of  a  man  low  enough  to  use  such 
ignoble  means  to  force  a  union  with  a  woman  who, 
as  he  well  knows,  hates  and  despises  him.  I  send 
you  all  the  love  you  can  desire.  Do  take  pity  on 
your  excited  friend  and  send  words  of  love  and 
greeting  as  soon  as  you  can  find  a  safe  way  to 
send  a  letter  hither. 

Your  most  devoted  friend, 

HlLDEGARDE   VON    LEBENLAND. 


140 


CHAPTER   XVIII 

The  Painting  of  the  Portraits 

EMBRANDT'S  life  was  now  a  very  busy 
JLv  one.  Portrait  after  portrait  was  painted,  and 
then  there  were  many  pupils  in  the  big  room  at 
the  top  of  the  warehouse,  who  needed  a  good  deal 
of  attention.  He  gave  them  a  most  vigorous  train 
ing,  and  some,  like  Ferdinand  Bol,  and  Govert 
Flinck,  became  great  painters,  and  even  caught 
something  of  the  master's  manner,  though  not 
much,  for  Rembrandt,  like  all  great  geniuses,  stood 
alone,  and  was  not  fitted  to  be  the  founder  of  a 
school.  But  busy  as  he  was,  he  found  time  to  go 
on  with  Saskia's  portrait.  Those  were  among  the 
happiest  hours  of  his  life,  when  the  bright,  beau 
teous  maiden,  who  had  given  him  her  love,  sat 
there  in  his  studio,  and  he  could  feast  his  eyes  upon 
her  as  he  pleased,  and  then,  with  glowing  color, 
and  lines  of  faultless  grace  and  truth,  put  upon 
the  canvas  the  features  and  the  form  that  he  loved. 
Then,  if  ever,  he  blessed  his  art.  It  was  beautiful 
love-making  this  immortalizing  the  beloved  one. 
No  sooner  did  he  finish  one  portrait  than  he 
wished  to  begin  another,  and  in  truth  he  did  paint 
Saskia  several  times  in  this  period  of  their  be 
trothal.  Saskia  grew  more  and  more  winsome. 
He  knew  not  which  charmed  him  most — her  play- 

141 


REMBRANDT 

ful  moods,  which  came  most  often,  or  a  sweet 
seriousness  that  became  her  well,  and  lent  a  kind 
of  dignity  that  transformed  her  from  a  merry  maid 
into  a  deeply  thinking,  true-hearted  woman.  And 
then  there  was  the  charm  of  her  beauty,  her  soft 
rosy  cheeks,  her  sparkling  eyes,  her  laughing,  tanta 
lizing  mouth,  her  curls  of  amber  hair,  that  rippled 
round  her  brow,  and  fell  in  careless  profusion  on 
her  shoulders,  the  exquisite  curves  of  her  neck  and 
breast,  and  all  the  lovely  lines  of  her  figure.  Per 
haps  Rembrandt  the  artist  almost  forgot  Rem 
brandt  the  lover,  as  he  painted,  again  and  again,  the 
face  and  form  which  had  captivated  his  eyes.  Yet 
it  was  not  the  love  of  the  eye  alone,  nor  the  de 
lighted  sense.  To  one  so  intensely  in  love  with  art 
as  was  Rembrandt,  the  beauty  of  the  woman  he 
loved  counted  for  much.  It  may  not  have  been 
the  predominating  force  in  the  directing  of  his  life, 
yet  it  exerted  much  power  upon  him.  He  valued 
it  more  than  would  be  possible  for  anyone  not  an 
artist,  and  yet  the  mind  of  Saskia  charmed  him 
almost  as  much  as  her  beauty.  She  was  far  more 
intellectual  and  thoughtful  than  was  he.  His  life 
had  been  centralized  on  one  thing  from  the  time 
when  he  was  a  mere  lad.  In  truth  he  was  a  verv 
narrow  and  ignorant  man  save  for  his  supreme 
knowledge  of  one  subject.  Saskia's  mind  had  a 
much  wider  range,  and  her  talk  so  delighted  the 
painter  that  he  cared  to  see  no  one  else.  His  time 
was  measured  by  the  visits  of  his  loved  mistress 
to  the  studio,  and  his  visits  to  her,  for  sometimes 
he  went  over  to  Hendrik's  shop,  in  the  evening, 
and  the  lovers  passed  delicious  hours  together, 

142 


THE   PAINTING   OF   THE   PORTRAITS 

while  Hendrik  dozed  on  one  side  of  the  fire  and 
his  wife  on  the  other.  Then  they  talked  of  the 
future,  and  one  evening  Rembrandt  said, "  Saskia  ! 
dear,  there  is  a  house  on  the  Breedestraat  of 
which  Lazarus  the  Jew  has  told  me.  I  go  to-mor 
row  to  see  it,  and  if  I  find  it  what  he  says  I  mean 
to  buy  it.  It  is  true,  it  is  in  the  Jewish  quarter, 
but,  dear  heart,  that  matters  not.  I  find  these 
Jews  are  very  honest  fellows,  and  they  are  most 
obliging.  This  Lazarus,  especially,  is  most  kind- 
hearted  and  always  ready  to  help  if  money  or 
aught  else  is  needed." 

"  Oh,  Rembrandt ! "  said  Saskia,  "  buy  not  the 
house,  I  beg ;  much  I  fear  me  it  will  cost  too 
dear." 

"  Have  no  fear,  my  own.  There  is  no  need  to 
think  of  money.  Even  now  the  Prince  Frederick 
has  ordered  pictures,  nor  do  the  other  orders 
abate.  Thou  shalt  have  all  that  money  can  buy. 
And  I  will  deck  thee  with  pearls  from  the  Orient 
and  diamonds  from  the  mines  of  Golconda !  My 
brush  will  do  all  that." 

"  Oh !  Rembrandt !  I  know  not  why  I  said 
what  I  did,  but  sure  am  I  that  there  is  a  fear 
within  me.  There  is  a  shadow  in  my  dreams,  and 
even  in  my  waking  thoughts.  I  know  not  whence 
it  comes,  beloved,  but  it  does  come.  Oh  !  believe 
me !  I  care  not  for  pearls  and  diamonds  and  fine 
houses  !  No,  in  all  truth,  I  do  not.  I  care  for  thee, 
my  own.  I  beg  of  thee  take  no  risk — believe  me  I 
am  content  if  only  I  live  with  thee,  it  matters  not 
where." 

"  Sweetest  Saskia !  tell  me  when  will  come  the 
143 


REMBRANDT 

time  when  them  wilt  live  with  me,  and  leave  me 
no  more  ?  " 

"  Nay,  my  lord  and  master,  I  cannot  tell  thee  that 
yet.  I  have  but  now  heard  that  my  sister,  Antje, 
is  very,  very  ill,  and  much  I  fear  she  may  die." 
Saskia  sobbed  aloud,  and  Rembrandt  comforted 
her  as  best  he  could  with  tender  caresses. 

His  arms  were  about  her  now,  her  lovely  form 
was  enfolded  in  his  embrace.  "  My  own,  my  life, 
may  I  not  go  to  Leyden  and  tell  my  father  and 
my  mother  of  our  betrothal,  and  ask  their  consent 
to  our  marriage?" 

"  Oh  !  Rembrandt,  how  can  you  ask  that  of  me, 
when  Antje  is  so  ill  ?  Indeed  my  heart  is  over 
burdened,  but  yet,  dear  master  of  mine  !  be  it  as 
thou  wilt.  I  am  thine,  now  and  forever,  but  thou 
must  wait,  beloved.  I  must  go  hence  to  Antje, 
and  I  am  sad — but  go,  go  to  Leyden,  and  get  the 
consent  of  which  thou  speakest." 

At  this  moment  Hendrik  awoke,  breaking  there 
by  the  continuity  of  a  snore  of  portentous  dimen 
sions. 

"  Ugh  !  Ugh  !  Ugh  !  Ah  !  Ah  !  by  all  the  saints. 
Ugh !  Ugh !  how  long  have  you  been  talking. 
Wife !  wife !  why,  she's  asleep.  I  don't  see  why 
people  go  to  sleep  at  this  time  of  night.  Wake  up, 
wife.  It  is  early  yet.  Ugh  !  Ugh  !  I'm  ashamed 
of  you.  Mynheer  Rembrandt,  I  beg  you  to  pardon 
my  wife,  she  is  somewhat  overburdened  with  the 
work  of  the  day.  Sometimes  she  gets  very  weary. 
Ugh!  Ugh!  Ugh!  Oh,  what  were  you  saying? 
I  am  sometimes  a  little  deaf  in  my  left  ear." 

"  Indeed,  Hendrik,"  said  Rembrandt,  "  I  said 
144 


THE   PAINTING   OF   THE   PORTRAITS 

naught,  oh  !  I  beg  you  to  believe,  nothing  at  all  of 
any  account.  But  you  know,  Saskia  and  I  are 
betrothed,  and  I  was  asking  her  whether  I  might 
not  go  to  Leyden  and  ask  consent  to  our  marriage 
from  my  father  and  my  mother.  Saskia  says  I  may 
go,  but  she  tells  me  that  her  sister  Antje  is  very 
ill,  and  she  must  go  to  Franeker  for  awhile.  So 
I  must  wait  longer,  and  this  I  can  scarce  abide, 
but  needs  must.  I  go  then  to  Leyden  and  she  to  her 
sister.  Now,  I  must  bid  you  farewell  for  awhile." 

"  Well,  well,  Rembrandt,  I  am  very  sorry  that 
you  two  must  be  separated  for  a  time,  but  you 
know  about  the  course  of  true  love.  Ha !  ha  ! 
always  a  little  rough  in  places,  eh?  Never  mind 
man,  your  time  will  come.  Just  be  patient  if  you 
can,  but  you  never  were  very  good  at  that.  Well, 
Saskia,  girl,  don't  be  blushing  there  in  the  corner. 
Come  here  and  bid  your  lover  good-by  like  a 
true-hearted  Dutch  maiden  as  you  are." 

"  Oh  !  Hendrik,"  said  Saskia.  "  How  can  you 
say  such  things  ?  You  don't  want  to  confuse  a 
poor  girl.  Already  have  I  said  farewell  to  Myn 
heer  Rembrandt,  and  once  is  enough." 

"  Oh  !  Ho  !  You  said  it,  did  you  ?  Well,  never 
mind,  I  will  take  you  at  your  word.  I'll  say  fare 
well,  good  friend,  and  I  wish  you  a  safe  journey 
and  a  happy  return." 

"  Farewell,  Hendrik.  Farewell,  my  Saskia.  I 
trust  to  see  you  both  again  ere  long." 

Rembrandt  donned  his  long  cloak  and  broad 
hat,  and  with  one  last,  tender  glance  at  his  lady, 
he  left  the  print-seller's  shop,  and  strode  rapidly 
back  to  his  studio.  Although  it  was  late  when 

145 


REMBRANDT 

he  came  there,  Albrecht  was  awaiting  him  and 
greeted  him  with  that  warm  affection  which  had 
already  become  almost  a  passion  with  him. 

"  Where  have  you  been  so  long,  dear  Rem 
brandt?  "said  Albrecht.  "But,  bless  me,  in  the 
name  of  Venus  and  Cupid  why  do  I  ask  ?  for  1 
know  you  were  with  Saskia.  The  only  wonder 
is  you  came  back  at  all !  And  tell  me,  friend, 
how  goes  it  ?  Is  all  well,  and  when  will  the  mar 
riage  be?  " 

"  Alas  !  Albrecht,  wre  must  wait  awhile.  Sas- 
kia's  sister  is  very  ill,  and  she  goes  to-morrow  to 
Franeker  that  she  may  be  with  her,  and  I  must. 
hie  me  to  Leyden  to  get  consent  to  our  marriage 
from  the  father  and  the  mother." 

"Yes,  yes,  Rembrandt.  I  have  heard  that  such 
is  your  Dutch  law.  But  you  need  not  be  down 
hearted,  man,  even  if  you  do  have  to  wait  awhile. 
Why,  this  will  be  a  dear  and  sweet  time  for  you 
when  you  are  again  with  the  parents  you  love  so 
well  and  who  will  be  thrilled  with  pride  when 
you  throw  all  your  laurel-wreaths  at  their  feet." 

"  Yes,  Albrecht.  You  are  right.  The  visit 
will  be  sweet,  but !  oh  !  you  know  not  how 
weary  is  the  waiting  for  Saskia  !  " 

"  I  know  not,  say  you.  I  wot  I  know  far  better 
than  you  what  waiting  means.  You  must  have 
forgotten  that  I  have  not  found  the  lady  whom 
I  seek.  All  day  have  I  searched  for  her  but 
without  any  success.  She  has  not  been  near 
Hendrik's  shop,  nor  has  she  been  seen  near  here, 
so  far  as  I  can  learn.  I  am  at  my  wits'  end — I 
know  not  where  to  look,  but  find  her  some  way, 

146 


THE   PAINTING  OF  THE   PORTRAITS 

I  must  and  will.  Talk  about  waiting — you !  al 
ready  blessed  with  love.  You  are  a  thankless 
fellow,  and  you  don't  seem  to  know  how  richly 
blessed  you  are." 

"Oh!  yes  I  do,  Albrecht.  I  have  no  right  to 
say  one  word  of  complaint,  but — but  you  know  I 
am  impatient." 

"  Yes,  I  should  say  I  did  know  that,"  said  Al 
brecht,  half  aloud. 

"  Now,  forgive  me  for  my  selfishness  and  for- 
getfulness  about  your  troubles.  Indeed  I  will  do 
what  I  can  to  help  you  when  I  come  back  from 
Leyden.  Between  us  we  are  sure  to  find  her.  Oh! 
I  know  it !  Keep  a  brave  heart,  dear  friend ! " 


147 


CHAPTER   XIX 

Rembrandt  goes  to  the  Ley  den  Mill 

REMBRANDT  came  again  to  the  home  in 
the  Leyden  mill  that  he  might  gain  the  con 
sent  of  his  parents  to  his  marriage  with  Saskia. 
He  was  greeted  with  tenderest  affection,  and 
when  the  father  and  the  mother  had  heard  about 
the  maiden  whom  he  loved,  they  were  glad  to  con 
sent  to  his  union  to  one  so  lovely  and  of  so  noble 
a  family.  The  evening  was  spent  in  talk — Rem 
brandt  telling  of  his  success  at  Amsterdam,  and  of 
Saskia's  charms — and  the  old  people,  in  their  turn, 
speaking  of  the  success  of  the  mill,  and  of  the 
farms  on  the  other  side  of  the  river,  in  which  the 
mother  took  great  pride.  At  last  they  parted, 
and  Rembrandt  went  to  the  room  in  which  he  had 
slept  in  the  days  of  his  boyhood. 

At  dawn  the  silence  of  the  night  was  broken, 
for  with  the  first  flush  of  day  the  sails  of  the  mill 
were  set  to  the  morning  breeze.  The  familiar 
sound  of  the  noisy  cogs  and  grinding  stones  awoke 
the  painter  instantly.  A  great  wave  of  emotion 
swept  over  him.  He  was  a  boy  again  for  the  mo 
ment.  Eagerly  he  went  to  the  little  window  with 
its  latticed  panes.  He  opened  it,  and  looked  out  as 
he  had  done  often  and  often  in  the  days  of  his 
youth. 

148 


REMBRANDT  GOES  TO  LEYDEN   MILL 

He  lingered  long  at  the  window,  until  the  broad 
light  of  day  illumined  the  sky  and  the  land,  and 
the  river  was  a  broad  belt  of  shimmering  silver 
with  each  wavelet  diamond  crowned. 

Rembrandt,  after  many  a  tender  farewell,  turned 
his  back  once  more  on  the  old  mill,  and  wound  his 
slow  way  back  to  Amsterdam  by  the  canals  and 
paths  as  before.  He  scarcely  noticed  now  what 
vvas  about  him,  so  glad  was  his  heart  with  tender 
thoughts — so  flushed  and  excited  was  he  by  suc 
cess  already  won — so  eager  for  further  successes 
that  seemed  sure  to  come. 

All  the  long  weary  journey  to  Amsterdam 
seemed  short.  For  once  Rembrandt  the  artist  be 
came  Rembrandt  the  man.  His  love  absorbed  him, 
and  the  love  of  the  father  and  the  mother  touched 
and  thrilled  him.  Not  one  sketch  did  he  make 
on  all  the  way.  His  heart  was  full  to  overflowing, 
and  gladly  he  let  the  tides  of  emotion  sweep  over 
him.  Yet  he  regretted  sometimes  that  he  did  not 
seize  and  perpetuate  some  lovely  meadow  scene, 
some  group  of  noble  trees,  some  great  cloud 
masses  of  pearly  whiteness  with  the  deep  tender 
blue  behind  them,  the  overarching  blue,  the  un 
fathomable  spaces  of  the  blue  in  which  float  the 
clouds  of  Holland,  mounting  one  upon  another, 
until  they  seem  like  those  snow-clad  mountains 
whose  peaks  are  in  the  skies,  but  which  are  sup 
ported  by  the  low  hills  and  the  higher  hills,  even 
by  the  valleys  with  their  laughing  streams — truly 
a  meet  union  of  the  heavens  and  the  earth,  the 
uplifting  purity  and  grandeur,  the  sustaining 
strength  and  tenderness.  The  thought  of  white 

149 


REMBRANDT 

cloud  and  white  mountains  here  in  this  landscape 
of  Holland  was  the  same. 

The  impression  of  this  beauty  was  very  strong 
upon  the  painter.  It  was  the  inspiration  of  many 
and  many  an  etching  that  came  later,  but  for  the 
time  he  was  absorbed  with  his  portraits,  and  in 
deed  always,  it  was  human  life,  rather  than  the 
scenes  of  nature  that  took  first  place  in  his  mind. 
At  last  Rembrandt  found  himself  again  at  his 
warehouse  studio.  He  came  there  at  the  evening 
hour.  Albrecht  had  not  expected  him  so  soon, 
but  he  was  there  at  his  post,  keeping  guard  over 
the  home  of  his  friend. 

"  Rembrandt,  Rembrandt,"  he  exclaimed,  as  he 
opened  the  big  door  in  answer  to  a  knock  so  vig 
orous  that  he  was  sure  it  could  have  been  given 
only  by  his  impetuous  friend.  "  Home  again,  so 
soon  ?  That  did  I  not  expect,  but  glad  indeed  am 
I  that  you  have  come.  The  hours  are  weary  with 
out  you." 

"  Albrecht,  my  true  friend,  with  all  heartiness  I 
greet  you  ;  and  is  all  well  here  ?  " 

"  Oh  !  yes,  so  far  as  you  are  concerned,  all  is  well 
— at  least,  I  think  so.  It  is  true  there  has  been  a 
Jew  here,  Lazarus  was  his  name,  I  think,  yes,  he 
was  here  before,  I  remember,  and  he  wanted  to 
see  you,  but  he  would  not  tell  his  errand." 

"  Lazarus,  oh,  yes,  truly  I  think  I  know  what  he 
wants.  I  may  have  some  dealings  with  him  about 
a  house  in  the  Breedestraat.  Now  I  bethink  me, 
I  had  promised  Lazarus  to  go  with  him  to  see  that 
house  on  the  very  day  I  left  for  Leyden,  and  I 
forgot  all  about  that.  I  remembered  nothing  but 

150 


REMBRANDT  GOES  TO  LEYDEN  MILL 

Saskia  when  I  left  her,  and  thought  only  of  getting 
the  needed  consent  for  our  marriage.  Well,  it  is 
not  the  first  time  I  have  been  known  to  forget  an 
appointment.  I  dare  say  Lazarus  will  not  suffer 
because  of  my  negligence.  He  will  be  here  to 
morrow,  I  doubt  not." 

"  Rembrandt,  I  pray  you,  tell  me  of  your  jour 
ney,  and  did  you  find  the  father  and  mother  well, 
and  what  said  they  ?  Tell  me  all,  I  pray." 

"  Dear  Albrecht,  I  found  the  same  tenderness 
as  of  yore  in  the  old  home.  My  heart  was 
touched  and  thrilled  by  the  love  of  those  dear 
parents.  Not  a  moment  did  they  hesitate  about 
giving  their  consent  to  my  marriage  with  Saskia. 
They  would  have  given  me  all  they  possessed  I 
think;  and  oh!  Albrecht!  you  should  have  seen 
their  pride  in  my  success.  Father  had  been 
doubtful  about  it,  mother  always  trustful,  but 
when  they  knew  it  was  an  accomplished  fact, 
both  were  overcome  by  emotion.  I  was  loath 
to  leave  them,  but  the  portraits  must  be  painted, 
and  the  money  gained,  that  I  may  win  a  home 
for  my  Saskia." 

"  Yes,  yes,  Rembrandt,  that  is  true,  happy  man 
that  you  are  to  have  the  bliss  of  a  love  already 
yours  to  nerve  you  for  all  struggle  with  life  now 
arid  hereafter!  Yes,  indeed,  you  must  be  very 
happy.  You  do  not  know  what  it  is  to  long  for 
a  loved  one,  loved  as  in  a  dream,  without  one 
word  of  her  voice  to  recall,  only  the  face — the 
exquisite  face — seen  but  twice,  yet  always  pres 
ent,  always  longed  for  in  the  heart's  depths." 

"  What  do  you  say,  man  ?     You  have  not  found 


REMBRANDT 

her  yet?  Why,  what  on  earth  have  you  been 
doing?  Amsterdam  is  not  such  a  great  place. 
Search  it  from  end  to  end.  Surely,  you  will  find 
her." 

"  I  have  been  searching,  Rembrandt;  indeed,  I 
have  spent  nearly  all  my  time  in  that  way  since 
you  left,  but  I  have  not  found  her.  She  has  not 
come  again  to  Hendrik's.  She  has  not  been  near 
this  place.  I  think  she  must  have  been  alarmed 
that  evening  when  you  followed  her  in  the  street. 
I  did  see  a  young  man  once  by  the  Dam  who 
much  resembled  her,  indeed,  he  might  have  been 
her  brother,  but  her  have  I  not  seen  and  I  am 
weary  with  searching  and  waiting." 

"  Well,  Albrecht,  I  am  sorry.  From  my  heart 
I  am  sorry,  but  do  not  be  discouraged.  I  will 
make  inquiry  among  my  patrons  and  those  who 
come  here  with  them.  Surely,  so  distinguished 
a  person  as  I  am  sure  she  is,  cannot  remain  long 
hidden  in  Amsterdam — not  in  these  troubled 
days  when  everybody  is  watching  everybody 
else,  and  paying  more  attention  to  the  business 
of  other  people  than  to  his  own." 

"  It  may  be  as  you  say,  dear  Rembrandt.  I 
know  you  will  help  me  all  you  can,  but  I  am  dis 
pirited  and  have  little  heart  for  anything.  I  have 
even  forgotten 'about  my  print-selling,  and  I  fear 
I  am  but  a  sorry  man  of  business." 

"  Trouble  not  yourself  about  the  prints,  Al 
brecht.  I  myself  will  buy  them.  I  shall  soon 
need  them  all,  for  there  is  not  one  among  them 
that  is  not  most  beautiful.  My  Saskia  will  de 
light  in  them  and  so  shall  I.  But  first  I  must  get 

152 


REMBRANDT  GOES  TO  LEYDEN  MILL 

the  house.  When  said  you  the  Jew  would  re 
turn?" 

"  I  think  he  was  to  come  again  to-morrow.  But 
I  will  never  let  you  buy  all  these  prints.  You 
cannot  afford  it  yet,  and  you  shall  not  do  it  out  of 
kindness  to  me." 

"  I  can  afford  what  I  please.  Talk  not  to  me  of 
that,  but  I  must  to  my  work  again.  I  have  been 
too  long  idle.  Soon,  my  friend,  you  will  see  my 
coffers  brimming  over  with  gold." 

"  It  may  be  so,  Rembrandt,  yes,  I  think  it  will 
be  so,  but  my  heart  is  heavy  and  I  fear  some  evil 
is  coming.  1  suppose  it  is  because  I  have  been 
lonely,  and  sad,  and  discouraged.  I  am  a  stran 
ger  in  a  strange  land,  you  know,  and  I  cannot 
find  the  lady  of  my  love.  Yet  now  will  I  again 
be  of  good  cheer,  for  your  words  that  come  from 
your  love,  already  have  brightened  my  heart. 
No  man  should  give  way  to  melancholy  when  he 
has  such  a  friend  as  you  are,  Rembrandt." 

Thus  passed  the  evening  in  conversation  be 
tween  these  two  friends.  Rembrandt,  with  the 
somewhat  selfish  eagerness  of  the  lover,  returning 
again  and  again  to  Saskia  and  his  plans  about  her 
— Albrecht,  for  the  most  part  unselfishly  listening, 
but  unable  to  resist  occasional  reference  to  his 
own  quest,  and  the  best  means  for  attaining  suc 
cess.  When  they  parted  for  the  night  it  was  late 
and  both  were  weary. 


153 


CHAPTER  XX 

Saskias  Letter 

THE  next  morning  Rembrandt  again  took  up 
his  work  with  that  fervid  intensity  always 
peculiar  to  him,  but  now  deepened  and  made  even 
more  vivid  by  the  constant  presence  of  love's  in 
spiration.  There  was  no  lack  of  patrons,  and  the 
skill  of  the  painter  seemed  greater  than  ever  be 
fore,  so  that  his  favor  grew  day  by  day,  and  the 
gold  came  to  him  in  full  measure,  even  fuller  than 
he  had  expected. 

He  had  several  conferences  with  the  Jew  about 
the  Breedestraat  house  and  finally  the  purchase 
was  made.  Rembrandt  paid  a  considerable  sum 
in  money,  but  left  a  large  amount  on  mortgage. 
The  seller  was  quite  willing  this  should  be  done, 
for  Lazarus  had  persuaded  him,  and  indeed  had 
fully  convinced  him,  that  there  could  be  no  risk 
in  trusting  such  a  man — already  on  the  flood-tide 
of  success — to  any  amount  he  might  desire.  It  is 
needless  to  add  that  Lazarus  had  secured  a  very 
considerable  sum  for  himself  as  some  slight  com 
pensation  for  his  arduous  labors  in  making  so  ex 
cellent  a  bargain  for  his  friend  Rembrandt  and  so 
good  a  sale  for  the  owner  of  the  house.  He  was 
in  fact  paid  well  by  both  parties  to  this  transaction. 

When  the  affair  was  concluded,  Lazarus  re- 
154 


turned  to  his  house,  which  was  not  far  from  the 
one  which  Rembrandt  had  just  bought.  He  sent 
for  his  friend  Isaac,  and  he  caused  a  flagon  of 
good  Rhenish  to  be  brought — also  a  cold  fowl. 
Isaac  came  in  a  short  time,  and  his  hard  wrinkled 
face  lighted  up  with  an  unwonted  good-humor,  as 
he  looked  at  the  feast  spread  on  the  table  awaiting 
him. 

"  I  have  got  you  a  little  something  here  to  eat, 
and  to  drink,  my  friend  Isaac.  Take  that  chair 
by  the  table,  and  I  will  give  you  one  glass  of 
Rhine  wine." 

"  Well !  well  !  friend  Lazarus,  that  is  very  good. 
What  for  do  you  do  all  that?  Did  you  find  a 
diamond?  What  has  happened?  Tell  me, quick." 

"  Why  will  you  always  be  in  such  a  hurry  ? 
Take  that  wine,  and  that  chicken  ;  then  you  will 
feel  good  and  warm,  and  you  will  listen  while  I 
tell  you  all  about  it." 

"  Yes  !  yes  !  it  is  good,  and  I  am  hungry — but  I 
was  too  busy  to  eat  very  much  this  day." 

"  All  right  then — I  wager  you  have  made  some 
money  the  same  way  as  you  always  do,  and  that 
will  make  you  like  better  this  what  I  have  to  tell 
you.  You  did  not  forget  that  painter  fellow  what 
I  told  you  about — that  Rembrandt?" 

"  No,  Lazarus,  I  never  forgot  him.  Has  he  paid 
back  the  gold  what  I  give  you  when  you  bought 
that  Rubens  painting  for  him?" 

"  He  has  not  yet  paid  that,  but  he  has  done  better. 
He  has  bought  him  a  house  here  in  the  Breede- 
straat,  and  he  only  pays  part,  and  he  goes  in  debt 
for  the  rest.  Now  comes  he  here,  and  lives  with 

155 


REMBRANDT 

us,  and  he  will  buy  other  things,  and  you  and  I 
will  let  him  have  the  gold.  By  and  by  he  will 
pay  a  little,  and  then  he  will  pay  a  little  more,  and 
we  charge  him  much  interest,  and  we  pay  our 
selves,  as  interest,  all  that  he  pays,  and  then  he 
goes  on  some  long  time,  it  may  be — but  that  time 
will  come,  Isaac,  when  we  get  all  he  has.  I  know 
that  painter  fellow — he  is  what  they  call  a  spend 
thrift.  You  will  see,  I  tell  you  truly  we  get  all 
he  has  some  day." 

"  Lazarus,  my  friend,  be  cautious.  That  is  not 
like  you  to  take  risks  on  one  man  that  way — but 
then,  you  say  he  has  already  gone  in  debt,  deep 
for  that  house — well!  I  must  say  there  are  some 
hopes  in  it.  Yes,  he  will  hang  himself,  if  he  gets 
rope  enough,  and  you  and  I  will  give  him  the  rope. 
Wasn't  that  your  thought,  my  dear  friend  ?  Am 
I  right  about  that?" 

"  Sure,  and  the  more  the  better.  There  is  also 
another  thing.  What  do  you  think,  Isaac,  that 
painter  he  will  get  him  married  pretty  soon,  and 
then  what  will  he  want  to  buy  ?  Ah  !  we  have  our 
chance,  Isaac,  and  we  will  soon  have  all  that  this 
painter  gets,  if  the  God  of  Abraham  befriends  us, 
and  befriend  us  he  will  in  so  good  a  matter,  for 
are  we  not  bidden  to  spoil  the  Egyptians?" 

"  What  do  you  want  with  me,  Lazarus?  Some 
thing  you  want.  Ah  !  I  knew  that  when  I  saw 
that  Rhine  wine,  and  that  chicken.  Things  like 
that  come  not  for  nothing.  What  is  it,  friend  ? 
Speak  you  it  out,  but  ask  me  not  too  much,  for 
there  is  little  gold  now  in  my  coffer,  because  you 
take  so  much  that  only  a  little  could  be  left." 

156 


SASKIA'S    LETTER 

"  Well,  Isaac,  I  want  not  much,  no,  not  anything 
just  now — but,  by  and  by,  when  this  painter  be 
gins  buying  things,  then,  Isaac,  be  sure  that  you 
have  gold  enough  so  that  I  can  give  him  what  he 
wants,  and  you  shall  have  your  interest,  yes,  good 
interest — fifty  per  cent,  perhaps.  Ah  !  you  see 
what  I  mean,  my  friend,  and  you  will  always  have 
the  money  in  the  coffer  ready  when  I  want  it — 
eh  !  You  will  have  it !  " 

"  So  much  as  I  can  I  will  do — but  Lazarus,  I  am 
not  rich.  Oh  !  fifty  per  cent,  you  say  ?  Well,  I 
might  agree  to  that,  but  why  not  more  ?  " 

"  Well,  Isaac,  it  will  be  more,  I  think — but  you 
wait  awhile,  and  be  friendly  to  this  painter  when 
he  comes  here  with  his  young  wife  soon  he  will 
love  us  very  much,  and  he  will  think  we  are  the 
very  best  friends  he  has,  and  then  all  will  go  well." 

"  That  is  true.  Yes  !  yes  !  friend  Lazarus,  you 
are  indeed  a  true  son  of  Jacob,  and  I  will  help  you 
all  I  can,  for  the  plan  is  a  wise  one." 

For  some  time  longer  these  worthy  Hebrews 
lingered  at  the  table,  enjoying  to  the  full  the 
Rhenish  and  the  fowl,  enjoying  still  more  the 
thought  of  Rembrandt's  money  coming  to  their 
greedy  hands.  The  plan  was  deep  laid,  and  full 
of  subtlety.  It  required  much  knowledge  of  char 
acter  on  the  part  of  Lazarus,  and  it  needed  also  a 
great  deal  of  patience. 

It  was  not  likely  that  a  painter,  already  so  cele 
brated,  and  overwhelmed  with  orders  for  far  more 
portraits  than  he  could  paint,  would  soon  be  in 
serious  straits  for  money.  Lazarus  knew  this 
well,  but  he  counted  on  the  painter's  spending  all 

157 


REMBRANDT 

he  earned — and  more!  and  more!  yes!  that  was 
the  root  of  the  matter.  If  he  did  that,  the  Jew's 
harvest  would  surely  come.  If  he  did  not  do  that, 
nothing  would  be  lost,  for  there  would  be  ample 
security  for  all  advances  made.  Well  did  Lazarus 
know  that  he  and  Isaac  could  afford  to  bide  their 
time.  This  they  agreed  to  do  and  patiently  they 
waited  in  the  Jew  quarter,  counting  the  days  un 
til  their  victim  should  come  to  dwell  near  them. 

Rembrandt  was  counting  the  days  also,  but 
with  far  different  thoughts.  He  was  longing  for 
Saskia.  It  seemed  as  if  he  could  not  wait  for 
the  time  when  she  would  be  all  his  own  in  the 
home  he  had  prepared  for  her,  and  yet  his  pas 
sion  for  his  art  was  so  great  that  his  love  inter 
fered  not  a  whit  with  his  power,  and  never  had  he 
been  more  persistent,  more  absolutely  defiant  of 
fatigue,  more  engrossed  in  each  new  work  that 
engaged  his  teeming  brain  and  taxed  all  the  pow 
ers  of  his  brush  and  palette.  These  works  were 
many,  and  greatly  varied  in  subject.  Men  and 
women  of  high  and  low  degree,  young  and  old, 
beautiful,  ugly,  commonplace,  thronged  his  stu 
dio.  It  seemed  to  matter  not  a  particle  what  the 
subject  might  be.  Its  essence  was  sure  to  be 
caught  with  the  keenness  of  a  marvellous  insight 
into  the  character  and  the  precision  of  a  hand  and 
eye  so  trained  as  to  be  wellnigh  perfect. 

At  last  came  a  letter  from  Saskia  : 

MY  OWN  BELOVED: 

Thou  hast  waited  long  for  thy  Saskia,  too  long 
it  may  be,  but  well  thou  knowest  the  waiting  is 

158 


SASKIA'S    LETTER 

not  her  fault.  I  am  still  sad  because  of  Antje's 
death.  I  have  had  to  stay  with  Maccovius,  the 
stricken  husband,  whose  grief  would  rend  thy 
tender  heart,  my  own.  Now  he  finds  some  com 
fort  in  taking  up  again  his  work  on  theology,  but 
still  he  is  bowed  down  with  grief.  Nevertheless, 
he  has  bid  me  go  to  thee.  Shall  I  come,  dearest  ? 
Perhaps  if  thou  hast  not  ceased  to  wish  for  her 
who  loves  thee,  it  might  be  that  in  June,  in  June? 
Oh!  what  am  I  saying?  Well,  I  said  it — yes, 
June  was  the  month.  Is  not  that  a  lovely  month  to 
be  married— is  that  what  I  meant — I  think  you 
can  hear  my  heart  beating.  Thou  knowest  what 
I  would  say.  My  true  lord  and  master,  wilt  thou 
take  thy  Saskia  in  June  ?  Now,  indeed,  I  should 
not  have  said  that.  I  meant  but  now  not  to  speak 
thus,  for  I  fear  thou  wilt  think  me  unmaidenly, 
but  my  own  Rembrandt,  my  prince  of  men,  how 
can  I  help  giving  thee  my  love,  for  it  is  thine  al 
ready,  all,  all  thine  and  forever.  Come  to  me 
then,  dearest — was  it  in  June  I  said  ? — and  thou 
shalt  find  thy  Saskia  awaiting  thee,  ready  to  do 
thy  bidding,  and  to  follow  thee  through  life.  I 
am  thine,  perhaps  too  wholly  thine,  but  I  am 
proud  of  that,  and  I  say  it  again  and  again.  Some 
good  voice  whispers  that  to  my  Rembrandt's  ear 
such  words  will  sound  sweet  even  if  repeated  o'er 
and  o'er.  Indeed,  Saskia  writes  but  ill,  and  can 
do  little  but  tell  her  love,  and  tell  it  truly.  I  send 
the  sweetest  greeting  from  my  heart  of  hearts. 
Thou  wilt  come  soon,  beloved,  well  I  know  it,  to 

Thine  own, 

SASKIA. 
159 


REMBRANDT 

This  letter  was  sent  by  a  special  messenger  and 
it  so  chanced  that  Rembrandt  was  with  his  pupils 
in  the  great  studio  at  the  top  of  the  house  when  the 
messenger  placed  it  in  his  hands.  Well  knew  he 
the  writing  of  Saskia,  and  as  he  saw  it  on  the  let 
ter  his  heart  gave  a  wild  bound,  as  though  divin 
ing,  without  the  reading,  what  the  beloved  maiden 
had  written.  There  is  a  necromancy  in  love  and 
it  would  not  have  been  strange  if  Rembrandt 
could  have  read  this  letter  of  his  chosen  lady  un 
opened  as  it  lay  there  in  his  hand.  Hastily  he 
dismissed  the  pupils.  There  was  to  be  no  more 
instruction  that  day.  He  must  be  alone  and 
without  delay  with  that  precious  missive.  How 
sweet  and  pure  and  light  and  tender  it  seemed, 
as  it  lay  in  his  strong  firm  hand,  how  slow  were 
the  pupils  in  taking  their  leave  !  Could  a  man 
never  have  any  time  to  himself?  and  the  models, 
too,  did  it  always  need  hours  for  them  to  get 
ready  to  go  ?  Govert  Flinck  tarried  a  moment 
to  say  one  shy,  loving  word  to  the  man  whom  he 
adored. 

"  Master,"  he  said,  "  I  may  wish  you  joy,  I 
know,  for  I  see  a  happy  light  in  your  eyes.  May 
there  always  be  joy  for  you,  greatest  of  painters, 
dearest  of  friends  !  " 

"  Govert !  Govert !  what  has  come  over  you  ? 
I  thank  you  for  those  kind  words,  but  never 
indeed  had  I  thought  you  loved  a  master  such 
as  Rembrandt  has  been — one  who  came  to  the 
studio  always  with  a  reproof,  sometimes  a  stern 
one." 

"  Yes,  I  know,  master,  but  Rembrandt's  reproof 
160 


SASKIA'S    LETTER 

is  worth  more  than  the  praise  of  all  the  other 
painters  in  Amsterdam." 

"  Ah  !  well !  Govert,  you  say  too  pleasant  things 
to  me.  I  am  a  student,  as  you  are.  We  are  all 
striving  up  art's  hill,  and  none  will  ever  reach  the 
top,  but  let  us  go  as  far  as  we  can.  Now,  Govert, 
leave  me,  for  I  have  but  now  received  a  letter 
which  I  would  fain  read." 

"  I  go,"  said  Flinck,  and  as  he  went  away  he 
murmured  to  himself,  "  Ah !  the  letter,  the  letter, 
that  was  it !  It  must  be  from  the  great  master's 
love.  Naught  else  could  put  such  fire  in  his 
eyes."  So  murmuring,  this  favorite  among  Rem 
brandt's  pupils  left  the  studio  and  the  painter  was 
alone  at  last.  Instantly  he  opened  Saskia's  letter. 
As  he  read  the  tender  words,  great  waves  of 
emotion  swept  over  him  until  he  was  blind  and 
deaf  to  all  about  him  save  the  letter  of  his  love. 
That  was  the  world.  Again  and  again  he  read  it. 
Again  and  again  he  kissed  it.  After  a  long  time 
he  looked  about  him  as  a  man  dazed. 

"  I  have  been  dreaming — no,  there  is  the  letter. 
She  wrote  it — I  know — I  know.  It  is  a  real  letter 
surely.  Her  sweet  hand  lay  there  upon  it.  The 
very  fragrance  of  Saskia  is  in  it.  June — June,  she 
says.  Oh  !  how  can  I  bear  this  ecstasy — how  wait 
until  June?  I  must  talk  with  someone  or  my 
heart  will  burst.  Where,  I  wonder,  might  Al- 
brecht  be  ?  There  is  none  other  to  whom  I  would 
speak."  He  called  Jan  and  bade  him  find  Herr 
Albrecht  if  he  could. 

The  boy  went  all  over  the  house,  but  Albrecht 
was  not  there.  "  No,  master,"  said  Jan,  "  he  is 

161 


REMBRANDT 

not  here,  but  he  was  a  little  while  ago,  for  I  saw 
him,  indeed  I  did  ;  but  he  must  have  gone  out,  he 
must,  and  I  didn't  see  him  go,  I  didn't." 

"  You  see  but  little  at  any  time,  Jan.  That  know 
I  right  well.  Sit  down  there  by  the  door  and 
when  Herr  Albrecht  comes  tell  him  I  would  speak 
with  him." 

"  Yes,  master." 

Rembrandt  sat  down  in  the  dining-room,  and 
waited  for  Albrecht,  but  he  knew  not  how  the 
time  passed,  for  again  and  again  he  read  Saskia's 
precious  letter.  "  Where  is  that  Albrecht,  I  won 
der,"  said  Rembrandt  to  himself,  at  last  impatient 
for  a  word  with  the  friend  of  his  heart,  even 
though  hours  had  passed  in  the  reading  of  this 
letter  from  the  beloved. 

"  Jan,  you  must  be  asleep  there.  Surely,  Herr 
Albrecht  is  here  now.  It  is  late." 

"  Nay,  master,  yea,  master,  is  it  late,  yes,  it  is 
late,  but  he  is  not  here,  or  I  did  not  see  him.  I 
saw  him  not,  master,  no,  I  saw  him  not.  But, 
master,  perhaps  he  comes  now.  Aw!  aw!  why 
knock  so  loud  ?  Why,  master,  nearly  did  he 
knock  me  off  my  seat." 

"  Get  up,  you  sleepy  head,  and  open  the  door. 
Albrecht  is  there,  I  know." 

It  was  done,  and  the  German  came  in.  Fie  was 
wet  and  weary — worse  than  all  that  he  seemed 
discouraged. 

"Oh!  Rembrandt,  I  have  been  chasing  a  will-o'- 
the-wisp,  and  like  all  who  do  that  I  have  fallen  in 
the  swamp.  Nearly  am  1  choked.  Now,  my 
friend,  that's  only  a  figure  of  speech,  as  they  say, 

162 


SASKIA'S    LETTER 

but  there's  some  truth  in  it  for  my  tongue  is  dry 
and  my  throat  is  parched,  and  my  mind  is  be 
wildered,  and  if  that  is  not  what  happens  to  chas 
ers  of  will-o'-the-wisps  I'd  like  to  know  what  does 
happen  to  them,  or  rather  I  shouldn't  like  to  know. 
I  know  enough  as  it  is.  I  followed  her,  no,  I  fol 
lowed  him.  Where  did  I  follow  them  bo.th  or 
each  of  them — was  it  one  or  two?" 

"  My  dear  friend  Albrecht,  I  verily  believe  you 
have  gone  mad.  What  on  earth  are  you  talking 
about  ?" 

"  I  don't  know,  I'm  sure.  Neither  would  you 
know  if  you  had  seen  what  I  have  seen,  unless  I 
am  blind  or  dreaming,  and  haven't  really  seen 
anything." 

"  Oh !  Albrecht,  I  was  longing  for  your  presence. 
I  wanted  to  talk  to  you,  to  you  alone  of  a  precious 
letter  from  Saskia  that  has  come  but  now.  What 
sympathy  can  I  get  from  you  when  you  are  in 
such  a  mood." 

"  Pardon,  pardon,  dear  friend,"  said  Albrecht. 
"  I  am  a  little  confused,  but  we  can  talk  of  that  on 
another  day.  You  wished  to  speak  to  me,  to 
confide  in  me?  Oh!  I  will,  indeed,  listen  most 
gladly.  I  will  sympathize,  help  if  I  can.  I  have 
recovered  myself  now.  See,  the  dream  is  over. 
What  is  it  my  Rembrandt  would  tell  me?" 

"  I  would  tell  you  of  the  sweetest  thing  that  ever 
happened  to  anyone  in  all  the  whole  world.  My 
Saskia  has  promised  to  marry  me  in  June,  in 
June — just  think,  Albrecht — that  is  but  two 
months  away !  " 

"  Is  it  indeed  so,  dear  friend,  and  the  long  wait- 

163 


REMBRANDT 

ing  is  nearly  over?  From  my  deepest  heart  I 
wish  you  joy.  You  deserve  it.  You  have  wait 
ed  patiently — at  least  I  mean  patiently  for  you. 
Pardon  me,  friend.  Why  did  I  say  that?  I 
meant  not  to  banter  with  you,  but  only  to  tell 
you  how  glad  I  am  that  your  true  great  love  is 
so  soon  to  have  its  reward." 

"  Yes,  I  know,  Albrecht,  I  was  sure  your  sym 
pathy  would  be  mine.  It  is  very  precious  to  me. 
In  that  great  moment  of  my  life  there  was  none 
but  you  with  whom  I  would  share  the  secret  of 
my  joy.  You  will  be  with  me,  Albrecht,  and  help 
me  in  all  the  arrangements  for  the  wedding,  and 
the  after-coming  to  that  blessed  home  in  the 
Breedestraat,  which  does  not  seem  to  me  real  at 
all,  for  the  bliss  which  will  fill  it  is  all  un 
known,  and  far  greater,  I  believe,  than  fancy  can 
picture." 

"  I  will  do  all  that  I  can  for  you,  but  now,  in 
deed,  dear  friend,  I  must  seek  sleep.  You  must 
remember  that  my  quest  has  not  succeeded 
like  yours,  and  I  am  very,  very  weary.  None  the 
less  again  I  say  I  am  glad  for  you.  May  sweet 
dreams  come  to  your  pillow  to-night !  Surely 
they  will  come.  The  night  will  be  full  of  them. 
There  will  not  be  time  to  dream  them  all  in  many 
nights." 

And  so  the  friends  parted  until  the  morrow. 


164 


CHAPTER   XXI 
Hildegarde  to  Undine 

IF  Albrecht  had  not  been  the  most  loving  and 
least  self-seeking  of  men,  he  might  have  been 
a  little  hurt  because  Rembrandt  entirely  forgot 
to  inquire  what  was  the  cause  of  his  trouble,  and 
showed  no  interest  in  it  whatever.  Albrecht  did 
think  of  this  for  a  moment.  He  might  with  truth 
have  called  it  selfishness — but  he  did  not.  He 
only  said  to  himself,  "  Certainly,  he  must  think 
only  of  Saskia.  I  would  think  only  of  my  lady 
if  I  were  in  his  happy  place.  Alas  !  Lord  help 
me !  I  know  not  even  her  name,  but  I  shall  find 
her  some  day.  I  will,  I  will."  So  he  lay  down 
to  sleep. 

This  letter  from  Hildegarde  to  her  friend  Un 
dine  may  help  in  the  understanding  of  some  of 
Albrecht's  trials  and  perplexities. 

MY  OWN  BEST  BELOVED  FRIEND: 

Now,  you  must  promise  before  you  read  this 
that  you  will  love  me  just  as  much  afterward  as 
you  did  before.  But  I  don't  believe  you  will.  I 
am  afraid  you  will  think  I  am  no  longer  fit  to  as 
sociate  with  you — but  no  !  you  won't  think  that, 
for  you  would  not  say  even  to  yourself  that  you 
are  a  model  and  a  pattern  of  all  the  virtues;  and 

165 


REMBRANDT 

mind  you,  I  don't  say  that  because  it  is  a  set  phrase 
and  thought  to  be  a  pretty  one.  I  said  it  because 
I  meant  it,  and  because  it  is  true,  and  because  I 
am  so  different  from  you,  and  I  am  sure  I  don't 
know  what  you  will  think  when  I  tell  you  what 
I  have  done.  I  have  played  the  maddest  prank, 
but  I  don't  care,  I  couldn't  help  it.  Now,  if  you 
ever  tell,  Undine !  I  will  never  forgive  you,  no 
never.  You  must  tear  this  letter  into  little  pieces 
just  as  soon  as  you  have  read  it. 

You  see  I  was  getting  frightened  about  being 
alone  in  the  streets.  You  remember  what  I  wrote 
you  about  one  dreadful  time  when  I  was  pursued 
and  only  rid  myself  of  the  man  by  threatening  to 
call  out  the  guard.  I  wouFd  have  done  it,  too, 
Undine,  but  such  things  are  not  pleasant,  and 
they  make  a  maid's  heart  beat  too  quickly.  Well ! 
I  had  some  other  troubles  of  the  same  kind,  though 
none  so  bad  as  that.  These  Dutchmen  are  rather 
slow  and  generally  well  behaved.  They  are  not 
keen  for  adventures  in  romantic  matters,  and 
for  the  most  part  they  are  quite  content  with  the 
young  maiden  they  have  chosen  and  abide  with 
her  very  placidly  ;  but  there  are  exceptions,  and 
these  became  disagreeable  to  me.  Moreover,  I 
did  not  find  Hildebrand,  and  then  I  was  troubled 
by  being  followed  in  the  streets  by  one  or  two 
of  these  unusual  Dutchmen.  How  could  I  find 
Hildebrand?  Suddenly,  boldly,  I  thought  upon, 
and  directly  adopted  a  plan  whereby  my  personal 
safety  might  be  better  assured,  and  I  want  you 
to  know  that  your  Hildegarde  values  her  per 
sonal  safety  highly.  She  may  intrust  herself 

1 66 


HILDEGARDE   TO    UNDINE 

to  a  man  some  day,  but,  oh  !  what  a  hero  he 
must  be !  and  how  intense  his  devotion  !  Per 
haps  it  is  just  as  well  that  I  have  not  found  him, 
for  you  know  how  mannish  I  am,  how  very  well 
able  to  take  care  of  myself.  That  masculine 
quality,  my  dear,  made  me  do  what  I  have  done. 
To  all  outward  appearance  I  am  now  a  man  in 
deed — cloak,  and  doublet,  and  hose,  and  all  the 
other  thing's.  You  know  what  they  are,  I  sup 
pose — if  you  don't,  you  won't  learn  from  me. 
And  there  is  a  sword  at  my  side  which  has 
nearly  broken  my  neck  a  half  dozen  times,  for  it 
will  keep  swinging  in  such  a  way  that  no  one 
could  help  stumbling  over  it.  Now  I  want  you 
to  understand  that  I  am  only  a  man  when  I  go 
out  in  the  streets,  and  to  the  various  places  where 
I  make  inquiries  about  my  cousin.  I  have  not 
been  bold  enough  to  go  to  many  places  where  I 
should  meet  only  men,  but  I  am  gaining  courage, 
and  after  awhile  I  may  even  dare  to  go  to  Rem 
brandt's  studio,  where  I  am  almost  certain  some 
of  the  pupils,  if  not  the  great  painter  himself,  will 
know  something  of  Hildebrand.  I  am  sure  he 
must  have  been  there,  and  I  think  something  must 
have  happened  to  him,  or  I  should  have  seen  him 
in  the  streets  ere  now.  But  this  undertaking  needs 
courage,  and  a  most  perfect  disguise.  I  must 
practise  a  little  more  before  I  dare  attempt  it. 
Meanwhile,  I  have  my  adventures,  and  I  believe 
I  enjoy  them  thoroughly.  I  tremble  a  little  some 
times  ;  I  have  passed  that  German  in  the  streets 
more  than  once,  and  it  was  too  comical  to  see  him 
look  at  me.  He  seemed  so  puzzled — but  I  held 


REMBRANDT 

my  head  high,  and  went  on  with  a  swagger  and 
he  did  not  follow  me,  though  I  believe  he  had 
thought  of  doing  that  very  thing.  I  wonder  how 
he  knows  my  face  so  well,  though  perhaps  it  is 
no  stranger  than  my  own  remembrance  of  him. 
Once  I  passed  him  when  it  was  raining.  Then  I 
was  in  my  ordinary  attire.  That  time  he  did  fol 
low  me  for  awhile,  but  I  skipped  through  a  very 
narrow  dark  street  in  which,  as  it  happens,  there 
is  a  queer  kind  of  a  back  entrance  through  a  court 
into  the  house  where  I  am  lodging ;  I  gained  my 
room,  hastily  made  myself  a  cavalier  and  then 
went  out  again  by  the  front  door,  and  marched 
toward  the  Dam,  even  thinking  that  I  might  have 
the  boldness  to  go  to' Rembrandt's  studio,  but  my 
courage  failed  me  when  I  saw  the  German  again, 
walking  along  with  a  disconsolate  air,  his  hands 
clasped  behind  him,  and  his  eyes  fixed  on  the 
ground.  He  looked  up  as  I  passed,  and  the  same 
puzzled  look  came  over  his  face  that  I  had  seen 
before.  He  did  not  follow  me,  but  I  am  sure  my 
disguise  cannot  be  perfect.  He  sees  some  re 
semblance  to  the  woman  he  seeks.  Is  it  not  all 
very  romantic,  dear  Undine  ?  Now  I  am  perfectly 
certain  that  this  German  is  devoting  his  time 
very  largely  to  a  pursuit  of  your  humble  servant, 
and  I  am  very  much  inclined  to  think  that  I  know 
the  reason  ;  but  how  on  earth  a  man  can  be  so  daft 
as  he  appears  to  be  about  a  woman  with  whom 
he  never  exchanged  a  word,  is  something  I  can 
not  understand  in  the  least.  It  is,  of  course,  very 
flattering  and  really,  you  know,  not  unpleasant; 
for  I  fear  him  not  in  the  least.  He  is  a  good  man 

168 


HILDEGARDE    TO    UNDINE 

I  know.  No  villain  ever  had  so  noble  a  face.  It 
may  be  that  I  jumped  at  a  conclusion  as  to  what 
he  is  doing,  but  I  think  not.  Perhaps  I'll  let  him 
find  me  some  day.  Then  I  would  know  soon 
enough.  Dear  me !  I  am  consumed  with  curios 
ity  about  this  matter.  I  may  get  myself  into 
trouble,  but  not  just  yet.  The  adventure  is  too 
interesting.  I  shall  keep  on  just  as  I  am  doing, 
and  by  and  by  I'll  find  Hilclebrand,  and  then 
when  I  have  a  protector,  I  can  do  as  I  please 
about  letting  this  German  find  me.  And  now 
good-by,  dearest  sister,  I  will  write  again  after 
I  have  gone  into  the  lion's  den — namely,  Rem 
brandt's  studio.  Devotedly  your  own, 

HILDEGARDE. 
• 

After  sending  this  letter  the  young  maiden  be 
came  lost  in  thought — which  was,  for  her,  a  rather 
uncommon  event,  for  her  natural  liveliness  of  dis 
position  brooked  little  reverie.  This  exigency, 
however,  required  thinking,  and  Hildegarde  knew 
it  well.  She  meant  to  think  about  changing  her 
disguise  so  that  it  might  be  more  perfect,  and  she 
did  think  about  that  a  part  of  the  time,  and  she 
meant  to  think  of  the  visit  to  Rembrandt's  studio, 
which  she  had  made  up  her  mind  was  necessary. 
She  did  think  about  that  also — a  part  of  the  time 
—but  it  was  most  curious  how  much  of  the  time 
of  thought  was  given  to  the  mysterious  young 
man  who  seemed  dogging  her  footsteps.  It  was 
natural  that  a  very  beautiful  young  woman  should 
be  curious  about  so  strange  a  thing,  and  certain 
it  was  that  Hildegarde  would  find  out  if  she  could 

169 


REMBRANDT 

who  this  young-  man  was,  and  what  he  wanted 
with  her.  She  did  not  associate  him  with  Rem 
brandt's  studio,  as  she  had  only  seen  him  at  Hen- 
drik's  and  in  the  streets.  If  she  had  known  he 
lived  there,  it  may  be  that  the  proposed  visit 
would  never  have  been  made.  At  last  Hildegarde 
roused  herself  with  a  surprised  shake  from  this 
unaccustomed  reverie. 

"Why,  what  can  have  come  over  me? "she 
said  to  herself,  raising  her  head  and  pushing  back 
some  of  the  lovely  curls  that  had  fallen  over  her 
low,  white  brow.  "  I  must  have  been  dreaming— 
but  no,  it  is  not  all  a  dream.  I  must  change  that 
disguise  and  find  Hildebrand  at  once.  Things 
cannot  go  on  this  way  much  longer.  It  may  be 
very  exciting,  interesting,  and  romantic,  but  it 
is  dangerous,  and  I  must  find  my  cousin.  Who 
could  have  thought  that  I  would  be  in  Amsterdam 
so  long  as  this  without  finding  him  ?  " 

Hildegarde  changed  her  disguise  entirely.  In 
stead  of  a  cavalier  she  became  a  student,  with  the 
long  cloak  and  broad-brimmed  hat  habitually  worn 
by  them,  worn  also  by  artists,  burgomasters,  distin 
guished  people  of  all  kinds.  After  a  good  deal  of 
trouble  she  managed  to  arrange  a  mustache  and 
chin  whisker,  whose  falsity  would  escape  detection 
unless  closely  examined.  Thus  attired  she  went 
out  the  back  way  and  returning  to  the  front  door, 
knocked  and  inquired  for  Marjorie.  The  old  wom 
an  did  not  recognize  her.  N'  ither  did  Wilhelm, 
who  happened  to  be  in  the  little  room  by  the  front 
door,  where  he  had  been  trying  for  a  long  time  to 
write  a  letter  which  he  meant  to  send  home  if  he 

170 


HILDEGARDE   TO   UNDINE 

ever  finished  it,  but  first  it  was  to  be  shown  to  the 
mistress.  When  these  two  faithful  servants  failed 
to  recognize  her,  Hildegarde  felt  sure  that  her 
disguise  was  complete,  and  she  resolved  to  go  to 
Rembrandt's  studio  without  further  delay.  She 
herself  knew  something  of  painting,  and  was  a 
devoted  admirer  and  lover  of  art  in  all  its  forms, 
therefore  it  would  be  easy  to  give  a  reason  for  de 
siring  to  study  Rembrandt's  methods,  and  even  to 
become  his  pupil  for  a  time,  if  she  dared  take  so 
bold  a  step. 

This  most  unusual  course  of  action,  chosen  by 
the  adventurous  maiden,  was  justified  by  the  very 
peculiar  circumstances  about  her,  both  as  to  her 
own  position  and  the  troubled  times  in  which  she 
was  living.  She  dared  not  go  about  Amsterdam 
without  any  disguise,  for  if  she  were  discovered 
her  father  and  her  would-be  husband  would  soon 
know  of  it,  and  then  good-by  to  her  dreams  of 
liberty.  Moreover,  the  lawless  soldiers  in  those 
days  were  greatly  to  be  dreaded  by  an  unprotected 
young  woman.  To  assume  the  role  she  chose  was 
probably  the  best  thing  she  could  do,  and  her  bold, 
brave  nature  well  fitted  her  to  carry  out  such  a 
part. 


171 


CHAPTER   XXII 

Hildegarde  in  Disguise 

THERE  were  but  two  months  now  to  pass  be 
fore  the  appointed  time  for  Rembrandt's  mar 
riage.  The  painter's  heart  was  full  to  overflow 
ing  with  the  tenderest  of  thoughts,  the  sweetest 
of  dreams.  Saskia  was  not  in  Amsterdam.  After 
the  death  of  her  sister  Antje  she  had  left  Franeker, 
and  gone  to  the  little  town  of  Beldt,  in  the  south 
ern  part  of  Friesland,  where  she  stayed  for  a  time 
with  another  sister,  Hiskia,  who  was  married  to 
Gerritt  van  Loo,  the  Secretary  of  the  Commune. 
This  separation  was  hard  to  bear  at  such  a  time, 
but  his  love  only  nerved  Rembrandt  to  work 
more  and  more  intensely  on  his  art.  He  could 
not  be  idle  even  if  he  would.  Not  even  the  deep, 
true  passion  which  possessed  him  could  prevent 
complete  absorption  in  his  painting  while  engaged 
upon  his  canvas.  When  he  laid  aside  his  brush 
he  would  give  full  sway  to  his  tender  dreams,  and 
then  he  was  so  abstracted  that  he  would  hardly 
speak  a  word.  He  was  dull  company  at  this  time. 
It  was  bad  enough  when  the  one  passion  for  paint 
ing  possessed  him,  for  this  made  him  unsociable 
and  fond  of  solitude  ;  but  now  that  there  were  two 
passions — one  about  as  strong  as  the  other,  to  all 

172 


HILDEGARDE    IN    DISGUISE 

outward  seeming — well !  poor  Albrecht  thought 
his  friend  had  quite  lost  his  wits  and  wondered 
whether  he  would  ever  find  them  again. 

One  evening,  however,  after  an  unusually  long 
day  of  hard  work  in  the  studio  with  his  pupils, 
Rembrandt  was  quite  animated,  and  began  of  his 
own  accord  to  talk.  Albrecht  looked  up  in 
amazement,  wondering  what  could  have  hap 
pened. 

"  My  dear  friend,"  said  Rembrandt,  "  a  young 
man  came  to  the  studio  to-day — a  student  of  art. 
He  said  he  had  come  all  the  way  from  Germany 
to  see  my  pictures  and  to  study  my  methods.  He 
interested  me  very  much.  I  know  not  exactly 
why.  Perhaps  it  was  because  of  a  peculiar  mixt 
ure  of  boldness  and  timidity  which  I  do  not  remem 
ber  noting  in  any  others  of  the  many  young  men 
who  come  to  the  studio.  Perhaps  it  was  the  no 
ble  beauty  of  his  face,  which  was  very  striking.  I 
believe  I  will  ask  him  to  let  me  paint  him,  for  he 
is  surely  a  most  unusual  subject." 

"  Did  he  tell  you  his  name,  Rembrandt?"  said 
Albrecht,  much  interested  when  he  heard  the 
young  man  was  a  German. 

"  Yes,  he  said  it  was  Hermann  von  Lebenthal,  I 
believe.  Yes,  that  was  the  name.  He  seemed  to 
have  something  else  on  his  mind  besides  art  work. 
He  was  inquiring  about  a  cousin  whom  he  called 
I  lildebrand. '  There  was  a  young  man  of  that  name 
— a  German,  who  came  to  the  studio  some  time  ago, 
but  I  do  not  know  what  became  of  him.  It  seems 
to  me  he  stayed  but  a  short  time.  Ah  !  yes,  I  re 
member  now,  he  was  taken  ill  with  some  fever. 

173 


REMBRANDT 

You  know  strangers  are  often  overcome  by  such 
disorders  when  they  come  to  the  Low  Countries. 
It  was  selfish  of  me  not  to  find  out  where  he  had 
gone,  and  whether  he  had  proper  care ;  but  I  was 
very  much  absorbed  at  the  time,  and  scarcely  no 
ticed  that  he  was  no  longer  in  the  studio.  I  have 
no  idea  where  he  went,  but  I  dare  say  some  of 
the  pupils  might  know.  I  will  make  inquiries  to 
morrow,  for  the  strange  young  man  seemed  very 
anxious  to  find  him." 

"Rembrandt!  let  me  help  you  in  this  search.  If 
the  young  man  is  a  German,  as  you  say,  it  is  my 
duty,  as  well  as  my  pleasure,  to  find  out  about 
him,  and  to  care  for  him  if  he  is  in  trouble." 

"  Be  it  as  you  will,  Albrecht.  Come  to  the 
studio  to-morrow  and  inquire  among  the  pupils. 
I  dare  say  Govert  Flinck  could  tell  you.  He  is 
such  a  kind-hearted  youth  that  it  is  more  than 
likely  he  took  care  of  the  stranger  himself,  or  at 
least  saw  that  everything  needful  was  done  for 
him." 

"That  will  I  do  most  gladly,"  said  Albrecht. 
"  I  feel  that  I  am  of  little  use  here.  I  thought  I 
should  long  since  have  sold  all  my  prints  and 
gone  home  again,  but  I  have  neglected  my  busi 
ness  just  because  I  am  possessed  by  the  lovely 
face  of  a  girl,  and  I  spend  most  of  the  time  in 
wandering  about  in  search  of  her.  I  know  I  am 
a  fool,  but  I  cannot  help  it.  The  face  has  be 
witched  me,  I  verily  believe.  I  would  be  glad  to 
do  something  really  useful.  It  would  make  more 
of  a  man  of  me.  I  am  ashamed  of  myself." 

"  Talk  not  thus,  friend  Albrecht.  Surely  it  is 
174 


HILDEGARDE    IN    DISGUISE 
no    disgrace    to    a   man   that   he   should    love   a 

O 

woman,  even  if  he  has  never  spoken  a  word  to 
her.  Indeed  that  is  just  what  I  should  have  ex 
pected  of  you.  If  you  had  loved  like  other  peo 
ple  I  should  have  been  disappointed.  I  could 
have  sworn  there  would  be  some  incredible  ro 
mance  about  your  love.  Such  is  your  fate  plainly 
to  be  seen  in  your  face,  but  the  romance  will  be  a 
happy  one  in  the  end.  Ah  !  yes,  you  will  be  a 
happier  man  even  than  I  am,  because  you  are 
more  lovable  and  not  torn  to  pieces  by  conflict 
ing  emotions." 

"  Rembrandt,  I  will  not  hear  you  speak  such 
words.  What,  am  I  to  be  compared  to  you  in 
anything  for  one  moment — you  the  great  mas 
ter,  and  also  the  true  lover— I  nothing  at  all,  with 
no  achievement ;  worse  yet,  no  power  of  achieve 
ment?  " 

"  Come,  come  Albrecht,  you  are  downhearted, 
man,  and  I  wonder  not  that  so  it  is.  It  is  well 
that  you  should  take  up  this  matter  of  the  sick 
German.  It  will  occupy  your  mind.  Perhaps, 
too,  you  may  even  find  out  from  him  something 
about  the  maiden  you  seek.  They  are  both  Ger 
mans,  and  Germans  are  not  so  plenty  in  Amster 
dam." 

"  I  thank  you  heartily  for  your  kind  words.  I 
will  do  as  you  say,  and  even  now  I  feel  a  new 
hope  and  courage  in  my  heart." 

Thus  passed  the  evening  in  pleasant  converse. 
When  Rembrandt  did  break  away  for  a  time 
from  his  absorbing  passions  he  was  one  of  the 
most  charming  of  men.  The  immense  power  of 

175 


REMBRANDT 

the  man  gave  weight  to  all  he  said.  His  keen 
insight  and  eager  impetuosity  lent  wings  to  his 
words  sometimes,  and  made  him  really  eloquent. 
Such  moods  were  not  common  with  him,  but 
their  rareness  made  them  more  precious.  Well 
worthy  was  he  of  the  name  "  Master,"  so  beauti 
fully  given  by  the  Germans  to  their  art  heroes. 
Reverence  rather  than  love,  or,  perhaps,  love 
blended  with  reverence  is  given  to  these  masters. 
No  more  familiar  love  must  they  hope  to  gain  for 
the  very  reason  that  they  stand  so  far  above  the 
common  level  of  man  that  the  heads  of  most  are 
uplifted  in  looking  toward  them,  which  is  not  the 
attitude  of  love  but  rather  of  worship.  But  when 
one  of  these  "  Masters  "  throws  off  the  mysteries 
of  his  inspirations,  and  talks  as  man  to  man  with 
real  human  sympathy,  there  is  a  thrill  such  as 
would  come  if  a  god  stepped  off  his  pedestal  and 
took  you  by  the  hand. 

Such  thrills  came  often  to  the  patient  Albrecht 
while  he  lived  with  the  man  who  had  become  his 
hero,  but  they  would  not  have  come  at  all  except 
for  the  patience  that  was  willing  to  withstand  davs 
and  weeks  when  the  great  painter  seemed  made 
of  ice  or  stone,  so  utterly  insensible  was  he  to  the 
doings,  the  thoughts,  the  sufferings,  the  joys,  the 
lives,  even,  of  those  about  him.  Such  a  man  was 
not  likely  to  be  popular.  His  nature  demanded 
great  capacity  for  hero-worship  from  those  about 
him.  It  was  well  for  him  that  Saskia  and  Al 
brecht  were  born  hero-worshippers.  Those  who 
do  not  worship  heroes  are  apt  to  hate  them. 
There  is  no  middle  ground,  for  the  hero  once 

176 


H1LDEGARDE    IN    DISGUISE 

squarely  placed  before  the  vision  of  the  mind  can 
not  be  overlooked,  because  he  is  too  large.  He 
cannot  be  passed  by  with  indifference,  because  his 
genius  is  too  assertive,  even  obtrusive. 

Now,  Rembrandt  knew  little,  and  cared  less 
about  what  people  thought  of  him  ;  but  to  make 
enemies  was  not  of  happy  augury  for  the  Fries- 
land  maiden  rapturously  waiting  in  the  little  town 
of  Beldt  for  the  consummation  of  her  joy.  It  was 
well  that  no  shadow  fell  upon  her  then.  It  was 
well  that  none  fell  upon  him.  There  was  much 
passionate  joy  for  both  in  the  time  to  come.  The 
lowering  of  the  storm-cloud  was  not  seen,  nor  was 
there  even  the  faintest  muttering  that  might  be 
token  the  coming  of  a  desolating  blast.  All  was 
peace  that  night  in  the  little  house  at  Beldt, 
where  slept  Saskia,  dreaming  of  her  lover,  and 
in  the  painter's  home,  where  Rembrandt  in  his 
dreams  wooed  again  the  merry  maiden  who  had 
given  him  her  love,  and  where  even  perturbed 
Albrecht  lay  down  with  a  certain  peace  in  his 
heart  born  of  a  hope  that  the  morrow  might 
bring  him  something  that  would  speed  him  on  his 
quest.  There  was  one  who  slept  little,  and  that 
was  the  fair  Hildegarde.  The  adventures  of  the 
day  had  so  excited  her  that  sleep  was  impossible. 
She  had  played  her  part  to  perfection,  and  she 
knew  she  had  not  been  discovered,  and  she 
had  found  out  that  Hildebrand  had  been  at  the 
studio,  but  had  suddenly  disappeared.  No  one 
seemed  to  know  where  he  had  gone,  but  Govert 
Flinck  had  told  the  students  the  young  man 
was  ill  with  fever,  and  he  had  found  a  place 

177 


REMBRANDT 

where  proper  care  and  attendance  could  be  had. 
Govert  Flinck  himself  was  not  there  at  the  time, 
and,  therefore,  Hildegarde  resolved  to  repeat  her 
visit,  seeking  to  meet  Flinck,  and  then  she  would 
surely  find  her  cousin. 


178 


CHAPTER  XXIII 

Albrecht  Seeks  Hildebrand 

THE  next  morning  Albrecht  was  in  the  studio 
before  the  pupils  came.  He  meant  to  meet 
Flinck  before  he  began  his  work,  and  get  a  few 
words  with  him  about  the  young  German  of  whom 
Rembrandt  had  spoken.  He  had  not  long  to 
wait.  Flinck  came  quite  early,  and  Albrecht 
forthwith  acquainted  him  with  the  errand  he  had 
undertaken. 

"  Ah,  yes  !  Ah,  yes !  Herr  Albrecht,"  said  the 
kind-hearted  Flinck.  "  I  wonder  much  I  spoke 
to  you  not  before  about  this,  knowing  as  I  did 
that  you  were  a  German.  I  am  much  to  blame. 
I  hope  you  will  forgive  me,  but  I  think  indeed 
you  could  not  have  done  much.  You  did  not 
come  here  until  after  the  young  man  was  taken  ill. 
I  saw  it  was  a  very  serious  disease,  and  I  went  to 
Dr.  Tulp,  whom  I  know  very  well,  and  begged 
him  to  help  this  poor  stranger  if  he  could.  Mean 
while  I  took  Hildebrand  to  my  own  room.  After 
a  time  Dr.  Tulp  came  to  see  him,  and  he  showed 
great  kindness.  He  said  the  patient  needed  most 
of  all  change  of  air.  Now  this  good  doctor  knew 
of  a  place  at  Egmont  an  Zee,  where  dwelt  some 
humble  folk  who  were  glad  to  take  care  of  those 
he  sent  to  them,  asking  only  a  small  reward. 

179 


REMBRANDT 

These  people  had  a  farm-house  quite  near  the 
sea,  and  there,  said  the  good  doctor,  will  the  air 
do  more  for  this  young  man  than  any  medicine  I 
could  give  him." 

"  How  kind  that  was  of  you,  Govcrt !  and  how 
very  kind  of  Dr.  Tulp,  that  great  man,  to  take  so 
much  trouble  about  my  poor  fellow-countryman  ! 
I  thank  you  with  all  my  heart." 

"  Nay  !  Nay  !  Herr  Albrecht,  it  was  but  a  trifle. 
I  am  heartily  glad  all  was  so  well  arranged.  I 
confess  I  was  troubled  for  a  time.  Certainly 
would  the  young  man  have  died  had  he  remained 
here,  and  I  doubt  if  any  but  Dr.  Tulp  could  have 
saved  his  life." 

"And  where  is  this  Egmont  an  Zee? — that  is 
what  you  called  it,  is  it  not  ?  " 

"  Yes,  why  you  ought  to  know  where  that  is — 
but  I  forgot  you  are  not  a  Dutchman.  That  is 
where  dwelt  the  famous  Counts  of  Egmont. 
Surely  you  remember  how  Philip  II.  foully  slew 
one  of  them,  who  went  with  Count  Horn  to  him 
as  ambassador  in  the  early  days  of  the  fearful 
war." 

"  Surely,  yes,  I  remember  that  awful  deed,  but 
1  knew  not  where  dwelt  the  famous  counts.  Is 
it  far  from  here  ?  " 

"  Nay.  Egmont  an  Zee  is  not  very  far  away— 
yet  is  the  journey  not  an  easy  one,  and  for  a  sick 
man  it  is  hard  indeed,  but  the  good  doctor  took 
charge  of  everything,  and  one  of  his  pupils  went 
with  Hildebrand  to  take  care  of  him  on  the  way 
and  see  that  he  was  well  lodged.  It  was  a  kind 

C? 

deed.      I  would  gladly  have  gone  myself,  but  I 

i  So 


ALBRECHT    SEEKS    HILDEBRAND 

was  not  needed.  All  was  done  that  could  be 
done,  and  Dr.  Tulp  has  told  me  that  the  young 
man  arrived  safely,  and  that  all  is  going  well  with 
him,  at  least  as  well  as  could  possibly  be  hoped, 
but  he  is  still  very  ill  and  weak.  " 

"  I  must  go  to  him,  at  once,"  said  Albrecht. 
"It  is  my  duty.  Surely  the  presence  of  one  of 
his  own  countrymen  will  do  much  to  restore  him 
— at  least,  it  will  make  him  less  lonesome.  Tell 
me  the  way,  good  Govert,  I  would  start  at  once." 

"  Indeed,  I  believe  you  are  in  the  right.  I  wish 
I  had  thought  of  this  before.  I  wonder  at  my 
thoughtlessness,  but,  indeed,  I  believe  that  in 
Rembrandt's  presence  everyone  becomes  absorbed 
in  art,  just  as  he  is.  All  else  seems  to  be  forgot 
ten,  in  the  studio,  at  least.  That  must  be  my  ex 
cuse,  though  well  I  know  it  is  a  poor  one.  Let 
me  come  to  your  room,  and  while  you  prepare 
for  your  journey  I  will  tell  you  how  best  to  go  to 
Egmont." 

They  descended  to  Albrecht's  chamber,  and  it 
was  not  long  before  the  necessary  preparations 
were  made. 

Afterward  Albrecht  sought  Rembrandt,  and 
acquainted  him  with  his  purpose.  After  he  had 
heard  all,  Rembrandt  said  : 

"  Yes,  it  is  well  to  do  as  you  have  planned,  and 
it  is  a  deed  quite  worthy  of  your  loving,  unselfish 
heart.  Would  I  were  more  like  you  !  But, 
Albrecht,  mind  you,  my  wedding  is  but  a  month 
away,  now,  and  you  have  promised  to  be  with  me 
then." 

"  Fear  not,  my  friend,  I  will  come  back  in  good 

181 


REMBRANDT 

tune,  and  will  do  for  you  what  I  can;  though  well 
I  wot  there  will  be  little  need  of  my  help  or  pres 
ence  at  the  time  when  Rembrandt's  love  is 
crowned.  Still,  fain  would  I  be  there  to  look  afar 
off  upon  such  a  joy.  If  a  friend's  sympathy  can 
add  aught  to  your  happiness  you  shall  have  all 
that  I  can  give.  And  now,  farewell,  for  the  time." 

"  Farewell,  Albrecht,  and  may  all  good  be  with 
you." 

Thus  they  parted,  and  in  a  short  time  Albrecht 
was  again  on  one  of  those  canal-boats  which  he 
knew  so  well.  Thus  would  he  go  to  Alkmaar, 
and  there  seek  conveyance  by  land  to  Egmont. 

Rembrandt  went  back  to  his  studio,  saddened 
for  the  moment  at  the  parting,  but  still  intent 
upon  his  art.  He  went  on  with  the  instructions  to 
his  pupils  which  had  been  begun  when  Albrecht's 
message  came  to  him,  but  it  seemed  this  morn 
ing  that  he  was  destined  to  interruption — a  thing 
which  always  irritated  him  beyond  measure. 

The  boy,  Jan,  knew  this  well,  and  hardly  dared 
go  near  the  master  again  so  soon  with  another 
message.  However,  there  was  no  help  for  it, 
since  the  young  stranger  who  had  been  there  yes 
terday  had  come  again  and  craved  instant  admit 
tance.  So  Jan  crept  softly  toward  the  painter  as 
he  came  from  one  of  the  little  rooms  where  the 
pupils  worked  alone. 

"  Master,  master,"  he  said,  timidly. 

"  You  there  again,  you  varlet  ?  Know  you  not 
that  these  are  hours  of  work?  How  dare  you 
thus  break  in  upon  my  time?" 

"  Yes,  yes,  I  know  I  know,  master,  but,  indeed, 
182 


ALBRECHT   SEEKS    HILDEBRAND 

I  could  not  help  it,  for  he  would  come  in,  yes,  he 
would,  and  he  said  you  would  see  him,  yes,  he 
did." 

"  Who,  who,  you  idiot  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  know,  master,  who  ?  Nay,  I  know  not, 
yes,  I  know — he  who  came  yester  morn — the  man 
in  black." 

"  Why  did  you  not  say  so  at  first?  Have  you 
no  wits  at  all  ?  Tell  him  to  come  up,"  said  Rem 
brandt,  suddenly  softening,  for  that  young  man 
had  interested  him  strangely,  and  he  was  bent 
upon  painting  him.  Presently  Hiidegarde  en 
tered,  and  with  graceful  bearing  approached  Rem 
brandt. 

"  Again,  good-morning  to  you,  great  master  ! 
Yesterday  so  charmed  was  I  with  what  I  saw  and 
learned  here  that  scarce  could  I  wait  for  another 
day  that  I  might  once  more  begin  a  study  of  your 
works,  and  especially  if  I  may  crave  pardon  of 
your  indulgence,  would  I  have  some  little  con 
verse  with  your  pupils,  that  I  may  from  them 
learn  to  know  something  of  the  secret  of  your 
teaching,  and  that  I  may  get  some  news  of  my 
cousin." 

"•It  seems  to  me,  young  man,  that  you  are  mar 
vellously  fond  of  pupils  and  teaching.  Methinks 
you  are  not  yet  very  old.  Think  you  of  founding 
a  school  in  Germany  ?  Nay,  better  wait  awhile— 
but  you  Germans  sometimes  are  wonders  in  your 
youth.  Yes,  yes,  there  is  also  that  matter  about 
your  cousin.  Come,  I  will  make  a  bargain  with 
you,  and  on  the  issue  shall  depend  the  freedom  of 
my  studio.  Paint  you  a  picture  of  me  and  I  will 

183 


REMBRANDT 

paint  one  of  you.  If  the  pupils  adjudge  yours 
the  better  you  shall  go  and  come  as  you  will,  if 
mine — well  then  you  may  still  come  as  you  please. 
Oh  !  I  need  hardly  say  I  was  but  jesting.  The 
real  truth  is  that  I  want  to  paint  your  portrait. 
Will  you  come  to  my  studio  and  sit  for  me  instead 
of  going  about  talking  with  these  fellows  here  ? 
That  can  do  you  but  little  good,  except  perhaps 
finding  the  dear  cousin  ;  but  if  you  will  let  me 
paint  you  I  will  at  least  try  to  show  you  some 
thing  of  my  art,  such  as  it  is.  Do  you  agree?  " 

Here  indeed  was  a  situation  quite  unforeseen. 
The  very  idea  that  the  greatest  master  of  Hol 
land  should  paint  her-in  such  a  garb  made  Hilde- 
garde  tremble  from  head  to  foot.  A  vivid  blush 
mantled  to  her  very  brow  and  she  turned  away 
to  escape  Rembrandt's  eyes — but  her  courage  did 
not  quite  leave  her.  As  she  turned  from  him  she 
bent  down  her  head,  and  said,  in  a  voice  that  was 
audible  though  not  very  firm,  "  I  am  too  much 
honored,  indeed,  quite  overcome,  when  I  think 
you  wish  to  paint  me.  There  could  be  no  greater 
compliment.  I  thank  you,  but  it  is  impossible  for 
me  to  do  what  you  say.  No  !  no  !  my  time  is 
limited.  I  must  go  home.  I  must  study  but  a 
little  more  with  your  pupils.  Then  I  must  go. 
Will  you  please  let  me  speak  again  to  some  of  the 
students,  especially  would  I  find  one  Govert 
Flinck,  who  studies  here,  as  I  am  told?  Is  lie 
here  to-day  ?  " 

Rembrandt  looked  in  blank  astonishment  upon 
this  youth.  The  leading  people  of  Amsterdam 
were  waiting  their  turn  for  a  portrait  by  him,  and 

184 


ALBRECHT    SEEKS    HILDEBRAND 

this  young  German,  while  apparently  enamoured 
of  his  art,  refused  a  request  to  be  painted  simply 
for  the  artist's  pleasure.  There  was  some  mystery 
here.  Rembrandt  looked  again,  and  more  closely 
at  the  youth — but  even  his  practised  eye  did  not 
detect  the  truth.  The  disguise  was  very  perfect. 
There  was,  it  is  true,  a  feminine  quality  in  the  won 
derfully  handsome  face,  but  with  mustache  and 
beard  to  gainsay  it,  this  was  not  so  strong  as  neces 
sarily  to  make  certain  that  the  wearer  of  the  long 
black  coat  and  the  hat  like  Rembrandt's  own  was 
a  woman. 

"  Now,  in  good  sooth,"  said  -Rembrandt  after  a 
little  pause.  "  It  is  hard  for  me  to  believe  that 
you  have  come  here  for  the  reason  that  you  pro 
fess.  If,  indeed,  you  love  my  art,  and  wish  to 
study  my  methods,  what  better  opportunity  could 
you  have  than  to  see  me  paint  your  own  por 
trait  ?  Not  many  here  in  Amsterdam  would 
refuse  such  an  offer  as  I  have  made  to  you,  no 
matter  how  little  they  knew,  or  cared  to  know 
about  art." 

"  Ah,  great  master," said  Hildegarde.  "  I  humbly 
ask  your  pardon.  Indeed  1  deserve  not  the  honor 
you  would  confer  upon  me,  and  yet  I  thank  you 
with  all  my  heart.  It  is  true  that  I  love  your  art, 
and  wish  to  study  it,  but  I  have  told  you  that  I 
seek  a  cousin  who  is  dear  to  me,  and  much  I  fear 
there  is  something  amiss  with  him,  else  should  I 
have  found  him  ere  now.  Will  you  not  forgive 
my  impatience  ?  Supposing  he  were  ill!  Why, 
I  should  have  been  long  ago  at  his  side." 

"Now,  fair  sir,  trouble  not  yourself  about  him, 
185 


REMBRANDT 

for  I  believe  he  is  already  well  cared  for.     Govert, 
Govert  Flinck,  will  you  come  here  a  moment  ? " 

Flinck  emerged  directly  from  the  little  cell 
where,  like  the  other  pupils,  he  was  painting  alone. 

"  What  would  you  with  me,  master?"  he  said. 

"  I  would  make  you  acquainted  with  this  young 
man.  Hermann  von  Lebenthal !  This  is  Govert 
Flinck,  a  pupil  whom  I  love,  and  who  loves  me,  I 
think.  I  believe  he  can  tell  you  all  you  want 
to  know  about  the  cousin  who  interests  you  so 
deeply." 

"  I  am  glad  indeed  to  meet  you,  sir,"  said  Hil- 
degarde,  "and  I  thank  you  for  your  kindness, 
Mynheer  Rembrandt." 

"  You  are  welcome.  Perhaps  later  you  will  be 
in  a  more  gracious  mood  about  the  portrait.  For 
the  time  I  will  leave  you,  since  my  work  is  press 
ing."  So  saying,  the  painter  went  away  to  re 
sume  his  labors  among  the  students. 

"Of  whom  is  it  you  would  know,  sir?  I  will 
help  you  most  gladly  if  I  can." 

"  It  is  of  mv  Cousin  Hildebrand.  Was  he  not 
here  some  little  time  ago  ?  Know  you  what  has 
befallen  him  ?  " 

"  Now  this  is  passing  strange,"  said  Flinck. 
"  Why,  only  this  very  day  did  a  young  German 
come  to  me  inquiring  about  this  same  Hildebrand, 
and  I  told  him  all  I  knew.  Moreover,  he  has  but 
now  departed  to  take  care  of  him." 

"  Take  care  of  him  ?  Why,  what  is  the  matter 
with  him  ?  1  must  go  to  him  at  once.  It  is  I  that 
must  take- care  of  him.  Who  is  this  German? 
What  has  he  to  do  with  Hildebrand?" 

186 


ALBRECHT    SEEKS    HILDEBRAND 

"  Not  so  fast,  if  you  please,  good  sir.  I  will  an 
swer  your  questions  in  fair  order  if  you  give  me 
time — but  we  Dutchmen  are  a  little  slow,  you 
know.  Now  let  me  see  if  I  can  remember  all  the 
questions.  What  is  the  matter  with  him  ?  you 
said  ?  " 

"  Yes,  yes,"  said  Hildegarde,  impatiently. 

"  He  had  a  fever,  a  very  bad  one,  and  I  asked 
Dr.  Tulp  to  see  him  and  tell  what  should  be 
done." 

"A  fever,  you  say,  a  bad  one!  Oh!  where  is 
he  ?  Let  me  go  to  him  at  once." 

"  Now  there  is  another  question.  '  Where  is 
he?  '  Better  let  me  tell  you  the  story  in  my  own 
poor  way,  and  soon  will  you  know  all  I  know." 

Hildegarde  restrained  herself  as  well  as  she 
could,  and  by  degrees  she  learned  all  that  Govert 
Flinck  had  told  Albrecht.  She  was  greatly  con 
fused  and  excited,  for  this  illness  of  her  cousin, 
and  his  removal  to  the  sea-shore  quite  upset  her 
plans,  and  she  was  at  a  loss  as  to  what  was  best 
to  do. 

"  Who,  said  you,  was  this  German  who  went  to 
him,  Mynheer  Flinck?  I  think  you  mentioned 
not  his  name." 

"  Truly,  sir,  I  know  him  not  well  myself.  His 
name  is  Albrecht  von  Stoltzing,  and  he  is  a  dear 
friend  of  the  master  here,  who  can  tell  you  more 
of  him  than  can  I." 

"  Stoltzing  !  Ah  !  that  is  a  Nuremberg  name. 
We  are  not  only  compatriots  but  neighbors. 
Right  glad  am  I  to  know  that  my  cousin  has  such 
an  one  to  tend  him.  I  thank  you,  sir,  for  your 

187 


REMBRANDT 

courtesy.  Forgive  me  my  impatience.  I  am  some 
what  agitated.  I  have  sought  my  cousin  long, 
and  he  is  very  dear  to  me,  and  the  knowledge  of 
his  illness  has  quite  upset  me.  I  will  not  longer 
keep  you  from  your  work." 

"  You  have  given  me  no  trouble  at  all.  I  wish 
I  could  do  more  for  you.  If  you  go  to  Egmont 
an  Zee  you  will  find  the  journey  not  a  hard  one, 
but  tedious,  perhaps,  to  any  who  are  not  content, 
as  we  Dutch  are,  to  move  very  slowly.  But,  surely, 
you  will  see  the  master  again  before  you  go?" 
Hildegarde  had  already  turned  toward  the  door 
and  was  in  the  act  of  leaving. 

"  Oh  !  yes,  yes,  certainly.  I  quite  forgot.  I 
am  rude,  and  he  has  been  so  kind  to  me.  How 
could  I  be  so  ungracious?" 

Flinck  went  in  search  of  Rembrandt,  who  came 
presently. 

"So!  so,  young  sir,  Flinck  tells  me  you  are 
leaving  us  directly.  Methinks  this  cousin  must 
be  wondrous  dear  that  he  should  so  powerfully 
move  you.  Ah !  well,  you  Germans  are  very  af 
fectionate.  That  have  I  found  in  Albrecht.  Never 
did  tenderer  heart  beat  in  a  man's  breast.  And 
the  portrait!  I  beg  you  disappoint  me  not  of  that. 
My  heart  is  bent  upon  it,  for,  young  man,  though 
I  am  not  given  to  flattery  I  cannot  refrain  from 
saying  that  I  have  rarely  seen  a  handsomer  face 
than  your  own,  though  it  is  most  oddly  unlike 
that  of  any  German  student  I  ever  saw." 

UI  beg  you  to  forgive  me,  and  to  believe  that  1 
feel  deeply  your  over-kind  words,  but  it  is  reallv 
impossible  that  I  should  stay  now.  I  thank  you 

i83 


ALBRECHT    SEEKS    HILDEBRAND 

for  your  kindness,  and  I  bid  you  farewell,  but  I 
am  sure  that  we  shall  meet  again  and  under  differ- 
ent  circumstances.  I  hope  much  that  my  time 
will  be  my  own,  and  that  I  may  have  the  great 
honor  that  you  have  offered  me." 

"  With  all  my  heart,  I  join  you  in  that  hope. 
Farewell,  sir." 

Hildegarde  left  the  studio  and  emerged  from 
the  great  door  which  Jan  had  opened  for  her. 
Her  heart  was  throbbing  so  that  she  nearly  faint 
ed,  but  with  a  strong  effort  she  regained  the  won 
derful  self-control  which  had  carried  her  through 
these  two  days.  Even  when  she  had  first  seen 
Rembrandt,  and  recognized  him  as  the  man  who 
had  followed  her  in  the  street  in  so  surprising  a 
way,  she  did  not  betray  herself,  being  sustained 
partly  by  seeing  at  once  that  he  did  not  recognize 
her.  She  had  dared  to  go  back  again  when  her 
errand  had  failed  of  success  on  the  first  day,  and 
the  second  visit  had  been  much  more  exciting 
than  the  first,  both  because  of  the  proposed  por 
trait,  and  the  news  she  heard  of  Hildebrand.  Her 
nerve  and  will-power  had  carried  her  through  this 
most  trying  ordeal ;  but  now  came  the  reaction, 
and  she  felt  weak,  frightened,  and  confused.  Of 
course,  she  suspected  that  this  Albrecht  who  had 
gone  to  Egmont  was  the  same  man  of  whom 
Rembrandt  had  spoken  before,  and  in  all  proba 
bility  it  was  he  who  had  followed  her  in  the  street. 
She  seemed  like  a  poor  fly  who  has  flown  straight 
into  the  spider's  web.  With  the  greatest  effort  she 
reached  at  last  her  lodging,  and  sank  exhausted 
upon  the  bed.  Her  brain  was  in  a  whirl.  What 

189 


REMBRANDT 

was  she  to  do  next?  How  go  to  Egmont,  where 
the  young  German  already  was  ?  If  she  went, 
should  she  go  disguised?  No,  that  would  not  do. 
Her  fiery  blush  answered  that  question.  But  to 
go  openly  after  what  had  happened — why,  that 
seemed  quite  as  unmaidenly.  Moreover,  Flinck 
would  know  whether  or  not  she  had  been  to  Eg- 
mont  just  as  soon  as  Albrecht  returned.  Why 
had  she  told  both  him  and  Rembrandt  she  meant 
to  go  there?  Alas!  alas!  she  would  soon  be  dis 
covered,  and  shamed  forever!  At  last  her  wom 
an's  tears  came  to  her  relief,  and,  after  a  time, 
the  nerve-tension  was  somewhat  relaxed,  and  she 
began  to  think  and  reason  a  little  more  calmly. 
There  must  be  some  way  of  escape.  She  would 
hit  upon  some  plan,  but  not  now.  She  was  still  too 
tired.  Better  take  some  refreshment,  of  which 
she  was  sadly  in  need,  and  rest  until  she  fully  re 
covered  from  the  severe  strain  she  had  undergone. 


190 


CHAPTER  XXIV 

The   Wedding 

SASKIA'S  wedding-day  was  drawing  near.  In 
a  little  while  now  the  master  of  her  heart 
would  come  to  claim  her,  and  she  was  to  be  his, 
all  his,  never  again  to  suffer  weary  months  of  ab 
sence,  while  the  heart  ached  with  longing  for  the 
presence  of  the  beloved.  All  this  time  of  separa 
tion,  all  the  sorrow  that  came  from  Antje's  long 
illness  and  her  death,  had  but  deepened  and  inten 
sified  the  great  love  which  filled  her  heart  to  over 
flowing.  Saskia  was  almost  ashamed  to  be  thus 
mastered  by  her  passion,  yet  she  gloried  in  it  as 
the  greatest,  sweetest,  most  wonderful,  mysteri 
ously  blessed  feeling  that  ever  her  life  had  known. 
On  one  of  these  June  days,  not  long  before  the 
wedding-time,  she  sat  with  her  sister  Hiskia  in 
the  little  sitting-room  of  Gerritt  van  Loo's  house 
at  Bildt.  The  wall  was  wainscoted  more  than 
half-way  to  the  ceiling,  and  the  wainscoting  was 
painted  blue.  Above  it  the  wall  was  white,  and 
the  ceiling  was  raftered  with  the  brownish-yellow 
beams  and  boards  that  were  so  loved  by  all  Dutch 
men.  It  was  a  small  room  and  a  very  simple  one. 
There  were  a  few  ornaments,  mostly  of  Delft  pot 
tery  and  shining  brass.  Without  those  no  Dutch 
house  would  be  complete ;  and  there  were  some 

191 


REMBRANDT 

carved  high-backed  chairs,  for  Gerritt  van  Loo 
was  Secretary  of  the  Commune  and  could  afford 
some  luxuries.  Both  Saskia  and  her  sister  were 
busy  with  needle-work,  fashioning  dainty  gar 
ments  for  the  bride,  and  making  ready  a  goodly 
store  of  linen  for  the  future  housewife.  It  was  to 
Saskia  a  task  of  trembling  joy,  for  with  every 
stitch  she  seemed  to  be  binding  her  heart  closer 
to  his.  They  were  sitting  by  one  of  the  latticed 
windows  which  looked  out  upon  a  little  garden 
behind  the  house.  At  the  end  of  the  garden  was 
a  trench  filled  with  water,  and  this,  instead  of 
a  fence,  surrounded  the  green  meadow  beyond, 
where  the  cattle  were  grazing.  Farther  away  to 
ward  the  horizon  rose  the  dykes  that  held  up  a 
canal,  and  on  one  of  these  a  great  windmill  stood, 
its  sails  ceaselessly  rising  and  falling  with  a  sweep 
full  of  power  and  poetry.  Against  the  blue  sky 
rose  the  mill  with  its  revolving  sails,  and  high 
above  them  rolled  through  the  azure  heaven  white 
clouds,  wind  swept,  from  the  Zuyder  Zee  over 
the  land  of  Friesland. 

"  Look,  dear  sister,  look,"  said  Saskia,  putting 
down  her  work.  "  Is  it  not  beautiful  ?  See  the 
meadow  and  the  mill,  the  sky  and  the  clouds ! 
Oh !  it  is  too  beautiful.  Sister  dear,  I  fear  I  ought 
not  to  be  so  happy.  How  can  I  be  when  Antje 
died  so  little  while  ago  and  there  was  all  that 
long,  sad  illness  before?  Sister,  I  did  suffer,  you 
cannot  know  how  much,  and  I  am  sad  still  when 
I  think  of  her;  but  if  I  were  not  happy  in  my  love 
I  would  not  be  worthy  of  him.  I  would  not  bring 
a  sad  heart  to  my  Rembrandt.  He  called  me  al- 

IQ2 


THE    WEDDING 

ways  his  merry  maiden,  and  that  mean  I  to  be, 
else  would  I  disappoint  him  ;  yet  more  than  that 
also  hope  I  to  be,  for  a  wife  should  help  her  hus 
band  besides  giving  him  joy.  That  is  true,  His- 
kia,  is  it  not?" 

"  Dearest,  loveliest  sister,  Saskia,  never  maiden 
was  better  and  truer  than  thou  art.  Cherish  that 
power  of  joy-giving  which  is  thine  from  God. 
Seek  not  to  restrain  it.  There  will  be  suffering 
enough,  there  always  is,  and  never  is  there  too 
much  joy — such  pure  innocent  joy  as  thou  canst 
give,  sweet  sister.  Oh !  Rembrandt  is  indeed  a 
fortunate  man  !  All  the  honors  his  art  has  won 
are  as  nothing  compared  to  this  treasure  of  a  per 
fect  love  which  thou  dost  give  him." 

"  Sister,  I  will  not  hear  such  words.  Thou 
knowest  not  Rembrandt.  He  is  a  prince  of  men. 
There  lives  no  woman  who  could  give  him  what 
he  deserves." 

"  Nay,  sister,  rather  would  I  believe  there  lives 
no  man  who  is  fully  worthy  of  the  perfect  devo 
tion  of  a  pure  and  lovely  woman.  Oh  !  I  know  he 
is  very  great,  and  I  am  proud  and  glad  that  such  an 
one  has  loved  my  sister;  nevertheless,  it  is  as  I 
say — he  should  be  most  grateful  for  such  a  bless 
ing,  nor  do  I  doubt  he  is." 

"Dear  sister,  if  only  my  love  can  make  him 
happy,  I  ask  for  nothing  else.  There  is  not  joy 
enough  in  his  daily  life.  He  works  too  hard.  He 
is  too  much  alone.  Oh  !  yes,  I  see  !  I  know  I  can 
brighten  his  life.  God  has  given  me  this  to  do, 
and  I  thank  Him  for  so  sweet  a  task." 

"  It  is  a  task  that  thou  wilt  well  fulfil,  and  sure 

193 


REMBRANDT 

I  am  thine  happiness  will  ever  be  in  thy  devotion 
to  him.  May  God  bless  and  keep  thee  ever,  dear 
sister.  Now  must  I  leave  thee  for  a  time,  for  I 
see  the  lads  are  going  to  the  meadow,  and  I  must 
make  ready  the  pans  for  the  milk." 

Hiskia  rose  and  went  toward  Saskia.  She  bent 
over  and  kissed  the  fair  white  brow  that  shone 
out  so  purely  among  the  mischievous  ringlets  that 
were  ever  playing  about  it  in  defiance  of  restraint. 

When  her  sister  had  gone,  Saskia's  hands  fell 
idly  upon  her  lap.  She  looked  out  dreamily  to 
ward  the  sky.  There  were  the  intense  blue  and 
the  dazzling  white,  the  unfathomable  depths  of 
tenderness,  the  purity  almost  divine.  It  was  a  fit 
emblem  of  her  love,  though  the  maiden  knew  it 
not.  The  beauty  indeed  came  sweetly  over  her. 
Her  heart  beat  quicker,  and  her  bosom  rose  and 
fell  with  the  movements  of  the  clouds  as  higher 
and  higher  they  rose  toward  heaven,  but  her  con 
scious  thoughts  were  of  him  and  his  coming. 
Almost,  she  thought,  she  could  hear  the  step  of 
the  master,  as  he  came  to  claim  her,  so  near  now 
was  the  time.  Then  came  a  blush  at  the  thought 
of  this  nearness.  Just  then  the  clouds  blushed 
too — a  rosy  pink — for  the  sun  was  setting  and  giv 
ing  them  his  last  caress.  Another  day  was  passed. 
The  life  of  her  maidenhood  was  nearly  ended.  A 
new  world  was  about  to  open  before  her.  Oh  ! 
what  a  glorious  world,  all  glowing  with  the  ardor 
of  self-devotion,  all  gleaming  with  the  brightness 
of  her  master's  love.  Surely  there  had  been  a 
loneliness  in  the  maiden  days,  albeit  sweet  as 
those  of  the  violet  in  the  shade ;  but  the  days  to 

194 


SASKIA 


THE   WEDDING 

come  were  those  of  the  rose,  opening  its  petals 
gladly  and  freely  to  the  full  sunlight.  Saskia 
blushed  to  own  the  thought,  but  it  was  a  true  one. 
Life  without  Rembrandt  now  would  mean  nothing 
to  her.  Nor  did  her  lover's  passion  lag  behind 
hers. 

As  she  sat  there  in  the  sunset  light  looking  to 
ward  the  skies,  so  sat  he  in  the  busy  studio,  now 
quiet  when  work  was  done  and  all  but  he  had 
gone.  Palette  and  brushes  dropped  from  his 
hand.  There  was  a  great  light  that  came,  even 
thus  late,  through  the  north  window — a  glorious 
light.  He  rose  and  looked  out.  The  gables  and 
the  spires  of  the  city  all  about  were  brilliant  as 
the  last  sun-rays  touched  them.  This  brightness 
over  the  homes  of  toil  and  the  homes  of  worship 
seemed  to  the  artist  a  benediction  upon  the  lives 
he  loved  and  painted,  but  this  evening  it  seemed 
much  more  than  that — it  was  the  radiance  of  a 
vSun  that  should  rise  again  to  lighten,  glorify,  and 
fill  with  beauty  his  own  life. 

Rembrandt  was  quite  alone  in  the  great  studio. 
Even  the  boy  Jan  had  taken  the  colors  elsewhere, 
that  he  might  grind  them  without  disturbing 
the  master.  Like  a  faithful  dog  this  little  Dutch 
man  knew  his  master's  moods,  and  at  this  moment 
well  he  knew  there  was  a  mood  upon  that  mas 
ter  that  would  brook  no  disturbance. 

"  The  time  is  at  hand,"  thought  Rembrandt. 
"  To-morrow  go  I  hence  to  Bildt  where  the  ful 
ness  of  my  life's  joy  will  come  to  me.  She  is 
waiting  for  me.  Oh  !  Saskia !  my  beloved  !  would 
that  I  had  wings,  then  would  I  be  at  thy  side. 

195 


REMBRANDT 

But  I  must  see  that  all  is  ready  for  the  wedding. 
Why  is  it  that  I  hear  naught  from  Albrecht. 
Perhaps  a  letter  may  have  come.  It  is  most 
strange.  I  wonder  what  has  befallen  him." 

It  was  strange  indeed  that  no  word  had  come 
from  his  friend,  but  Rembrandt  had  been  so  ab 
sorbed  in  his  work  and  his  dreams  that  he  had  not 
thought  of  anything  else.  He  left  the  window 
where  he  had  stood  so  long  and  called  Jan. 

"  Is  there  no  letter  for  me  from  Herr  Albrecht  ? 
I  had  expected  to  hear  from  him  ere  now." 

"  Yea,  master,  a  letter  you  said.  Yea,  I  think 
it  is  a  letter.  It  came  but  now,  master,  and  I  did 
not  dare  disturb  you.  Yea,  it  is  a  letter,  I  think. 
Here  it  is,  master." 

"  Who  brought  this  letter?" 

"  It  was  a  man,  master,  and  I  think  he  was  on  a 
horse.  Yea,  there  was  a  horse.  I  saw  him  when 
I  opened  the  door,  and,  master,  the  man  ran  away. 
Perhaps  he  got  on  the  horse,  I  saw  not,  for  I  shut 
the  door,  master,  I  did,  for  I  feared  the  man,  mas 
ter,  I  did." 

"  You  are  always  afraid  of  something.  Why 
did  you  not  keep  the  man  and  let  me  speak  with 
him,  you  varlet?" 

"  But  he  would  not  stay,  master.  He  ran  away, 
indeed  he  did,  master,  and  I  couldn't  stop  him, 
could  I,  master?  I  am  not  big  enough." 

"  Yes,  I  see,"  said  Rembrandt.  "  Go  now,  I 
would  read  this  letter." 

It  was  a  letter  from  Albrecht,  a  letter  hurriedly 
written.  A  party  of  freebooters  had  surround 
ed  Egmont.  They  were  bent  on  plunder,  but  the 

196 


THE   WEDDING 

Dutch  had  armed  themselves  and  were  making  a 
good  fight  against  them.  Soon  they  would  be 
killed  or  dispersed,  but  meanwhile,  Albrecht  had 
to  stay  with  the  sick  Hildebrand,  whom  he  had 
found,  and  it  was  not  possible  for  him  to  come  to 
Bildt  for  the  wedding.  Albrecht  had  feared  he 
might  not  be  able  to  send  the  letter  in  time,  but 
had  found  a  trusty  messenger  who  had  agreed  to 
deliver  it,  even  at  the  peril  of  his  life. 

"  I  am  sorry,  very  sorry,"  thought  Rembrandt. 
"  I  love  this  German,  and  I  know  he  loves  me. 
Scarce  know  why  I  love  him  so  much.  He  is 
not  great,  I  think,  yet  do  I  believe  there  is  more 
in  him  than  has  yet  come  to  light;  but  we  do  not 
love  men  because  they  are  great.  We  love  them 
because — because — well,  why  do  we  love  them  ? 
Nay,  I  know  not.  I  love  not  many,  and  there 
are  few  who  love  me;  yet  Albrecht  I  do  love, 
and  sorry  I  am  that  he  is  in  trouble,  and  that  he 
cannot  be  with  me  on  my  day  of  days.  Let  me 
look  at  the  letter  again.  No,  he  is  not  in  danger. 
It  is  a  trifling  matter.  The  Dutch  will  soon  dis 
perse  them.  Yes,  I  see,  then  there  is  no  need  of 
my  help.  He  asks  for  naught.  I  will  not,  then, 
think  more  of  it,  but  will  let  the  heaven  of  my 
joy  be  unclouded,  and  at  break  of  day  hence  go 
I  to  Bildt." 

The  next  morning  Rembrandt  left  Amsterdam 
alone.  He  needed  no  company  but  his  joyful 
thoughts.  The  journey  to  the  little  Friesland 
town  was  soon  over,  and  the  arrangements  for 
the  simple  wedding  were  easily  made. 

Now  dawned  the  day  of  June,  the  twenty-sec- 


REMBRANDT 

ond,  in  the  year  sixteen  hundred  and  thirty-four 
— the  wedding-day  of  Rembrandt  and  Saskia. 
Unclouded  was  the  sky  when  the  sun  rose,  but 
afterward  the  white  clouds  floated  up  into  the 
blue.  Quite  early  in  the  morning  Rembrandt 
went  to  the  house  of  Gerritt  van  Loo,  where  Sas 
kia  awaited  him.  She  was  all  in  white,  and  her 
bridal  veil  half  hid  her  face.  He  wore  the  garb 
of  a  Dutch  patrician,  rich  black  velvet,  and  there 
was  a  heavy  gold  chain  about  his  neck  from 
which  hung  his  seal.  Proud  and  noble  was  his 
bearing.  He  would  have  seemed  to  others  then, 
as  he  always  seemed  to  Saskia,  a  prince  among 
men.  Scarcely  did  Saskia  dare  look  upon  him. 
Only  once  did  her  tender  eyes  seek  his,  then  she 
bent  her  head,  and  would  not  look  up  again. 
They  went  to  the  little  town-hall,  and  there  in 
scribed  their  names  upon  the  registry.  Then 
came  the  service  in  the  church.  It  was  the 
parish  church,  a  little  one  with  high-backed 
pews  of  yellow  wood,  and  in  the  windows  many 
coats  of  arms  of  brilliant  color  and  curious  de 
sign.  There  was  a  high  pulpit,  not  ornamented 
with  carving,  but  made  of  a  dark  red  wood  that 
came  from  the  Indies.  In  this  stood  Rudolpe 
Hermanz  Luinga,  the  pastor,  awaiting  the  com 
ing  of  the  bridal  pair.  Gerritt  van  Loo  and  His- 
kia  came  with  them,  and  there  were  a  few  of  the 
family  and  friends — not  many,  for  because  of  Ant- 
je's  death  only  the  nearest  and  dearest  had  been 
bidden. 

Rembrandt  and  Saskia  walked  together  toward 
the  pulpit,  and  then  stood  in  front  of  it,  she  with 

198 


THE   WEDDING 

bent  head  and  all  enveloped  in  her  veil,  he  with 
uplifted  brow  and  flashing  eyes,  yet  with  an  un 
wonted  softness  in  his  face,  as  though  in  spite  of 
all  his  pride  he  would  reverently  greet  the  angel 
of  blessing  and  love  who  had  come  into  his  life. 
The  wedding-service  was  simple,  and  was  con 
cluded  by  a  few  words  in  which  the  good  pastor 
asked  God's  blessing  on  these  who,  strong  and 
confident  in  mutual  love,  were  entering  upon  a 
ne\v  state  of  life,  and  also  gently  warned  them 
that  new  responsibilities  as  well  as  new  joys 
awaited  them.  He  prayed  that  they  might  be 
as  faithful  to  duty  as  to  their  mutual  love,  and 
that  their  lives  together  might  serve  God's  glory, 
and  be  of  use  to  their  fellow-men.  Then,  with  a 
very  tender  voice,  he  thanked  God  for  the  love 
that  had  brought  these  hearts  together,  and  pro 
nounced  Rembrandt  and  Saskia  husband  and  wife. 
After  this  quiet  but  beautihil  service  there  was 
a  gathering  of  the  family  and  friends  at  Gerritt 
van  Loo's  house,  where  was  good  cheer  and 
warm  welcome  for  the  guests.  There  was  merry 
making,  and  many  toasts  were  drunk  from  the 
great  beakers  of  Rhine  wine  to  the  health  of  the 
bride  and  groom  and  their  happiness  and  pros 
perity.  Rembrandt's  pride  and  haughtiness  of 
manner  quite  left  him  at  this  genial  time,  and  he 
seemed  as  sunny  and  mellow  as  the  light  of  his 
own  most  glowing  canvas.  Saskia  was  still  shy 
and  said  not  much  ;  but  her  eyes  were  glad,  and 
bewitching  smiles  greeted  those  who  came  to  say 
pleasant  words  to  her — such  smiles  as  only  came 
to  the  lips  of  this  merry  maiden,  now  a  wife. 

199 


REMBRANDT 

Toward  evening  these  happy  ones  sat  together 
on  the  deck  of  the  barge  that  was  to  take  them  to 
Amsterdam. 

"  I  take  thee  to  our  home,  beloved.  Long  have 
I  been  making  it  ready  for  thee ;  I  trust  thou  wilt 
find  it  to  thy  liking.  There  has  been  a  wondrous 
joy  in  seeking  to  make  it  beautiful  for  thee,  but 
nothing  was  good  enough  for  my  Saskia.  It  is 
the  blessedness  of  her  love  that  will  glorify  the 
house ;  I  scarce  remember  with  what  I  have 
adorned  it,  for  well  I  knew  it  was  only  thy  pres 
ence  that  could  give  it  the  beauty  that  must  be  in 
Saskia's  home." 

"  Rembrandt,  my  master,  thou  art  too  fond,  yet 
would  I  not  have  thee  changed.  Thy  Saskia  will 
do  what  she  canto  make  the  home  happy  for  thee. 
There  will  be  great  ones  coming  there,  paying 
homage  to  thy  genius ;  and  sometimes  I  fear  that 
thy  laughing  Saskia  may  seem  to  them  an  unfit 
mate  for  so  great  a  man,  but  I  will  do  my  best. 
Even  great  people  do  not  want  to  be  always  grave, 
do  they,  my  own  ?  They  will  not  be  offended  if 
Saskia  laughs  sometimes." 

"  Nay,  Saskia,  there  lives  not  one  who  would 
not  be  gladdened  by  one  of  thy  sweet  smiles,  but 
methinks  there  should  be  more  of  them  for  me  this 
day.  Thou  hast  been  pensive.  Fear  nothing,  my 
beloved.  Let  gladness  have  its  way,  for  well  I 
know  thine  heart  rejoices  even  as  does  mine  own." 

"  That  is  true,  and  if  I  have  not  smiled  enough, 
it  is  only  because  of  the  depth  of  my  joy.  Forgive 
me,  if  there  is  aught  amiss." 

"There  is  naught  to  forgive.     I  did  not  mean 


THE    WEDDING 

to  chide  thee,  but  only  to  tell  thee,  what  well  thou 
knowest  already,  how  thy  smiles  are  my  sunshine 
and  in  them  will  my  life  rejoice  always." 

The  sun  set  in  a  glory  that  irradiated  the  earth 
and  the  heavens,  and  the  full  moon  rose  and  made 
of  the  canal  a  pathway  of  gold  for  these  lovers. 

Hushed  by  the  beauty  about  them  and  the  deep 
tenderness  within  their  hearts,  they  sat  there  long 
in  silence,  in  the  great  peace  of  the  night. 


201 


CHAPTER   XXV 

Coming  to  the  Home 

AT  last  the  leisurely  barge  brought  Rembrandt 
and  his  bride  to  the  great  city  where  they 
were  to  dwell  together.  They  went  at  once  to  the 
house  in  the  Breedestraat,  which  was  all  in  read 
iness  for  their  occupancy.  In  the  very  vestibule 
Saskia's  eyes  were  delighted,  for  there  were  Span 
ish  chairs,  upholstered  with  Russian  leather,  and 
the  floor  was  of  the  fir-wood  that  came  from  Nor 
way,  rich  in  color  and  fine  in  grain,  though  not  so 
deep  in  tone  as  the  woods  of  the  Indies.  There 
were  pictures  in  the  vestibule.  Even  at  the  en 
trance  art  greeted  all  who  came.  Two  of  these 
pictures  were  by  Rembrandt  himself — one  a  com 
bat  of  lions,  the  other  a  mother  and  child,  a  most 
singular  contrast  of  subjects  to  be  found  at  the 
artist's  own  threshold.  There  was  a  country  scene 
by  Seghers,  and  there  was  a  marine  by  Antoniss. 
All  this  in  the  vestibule!  Saskia  stopped  and 
trembled. 

"  Rembrandt!  my  own  Rembrandt!  what  hast 
thou  done?  Didst  thou  think  Saskia  wanted  a 
palace  ?  Surely  it  is  a  palace  that  I  see." 

"  Dearest,  be  not  foolish.  This  is  no  palace.  I 
have  but  put  about  a  few  pictures  and  prints, 
and  you  would  not  have  had  me  leave  the  house 


COMING    TO    THE    HOME 

without  fit  furniture  for  the  sweetest  bride  that 
ever  crossed  the  threshold  of  any  home.  It  is 
naught,  save  this,  I  did  what  I  could  without 
thy  help  to  make  ready  for  thee.  Now  that  thou 
art  here,  together  will  we  get  such  things  as 
are  lacking,  and  by  and  by  the  home  may  grow 
more  worthy  of  its  mistress.  That  it  is  not  now, 
but  she  will  make  it  so." 

"  Oh,  my  own  dear  lord,  far  too  much  hast  thou 
done  for  me  already  !  " 

"  Sayest  thou  so  in  the  vestibule  ?  Nay  !  come 
hither.  There  is  something  better  than  this,  but 
nothing  fit  for  thee." 

Rembrandt  led  the  way  to  the  parlor.  This  was 
at  the  front  of  the  house.  It  was  not  a  very  large 
room,  but  it  was  wainscoted  and  raftered  as  was 
the  custom.  Here  were  chairs  of  the  Spanish  oak, 
most  richly  carved,  and  upholstered  with  green 
velvet.  In  the  middle  of  the  room  was  a  great 
table  of  black  walnut,  a  wood  commonly  used  in 
Venice  at  that  time  for  rich  furniture.  This,  too, 
was  ornamented,  perhaps  even  too  much,  with 
elaborate  carving.  Over  the  middle  part  of  it 
was  spread  a  cloth  from  Tournay,  which  seemed 
almost  like  a  tapestry.  The  groundwork  was  a  rich 
red,  and  there  was  much  foliage  embroidered  upon 
it  in  different  shades  of  green.  Saskia  stopped, 
entranced,  as  the  exquisite  combination  of  color 
met  her  eye  ;  but  in  another  moment  she  looked  at 
the  walls,  on  which  were  hung  pictures  by  men 
so  great  that  even  in  that  day  their  works  were 
rare  and  very  costly.  There  was  a  marvellous 
head  by  Raphael — a  portrait  vying  in  power  even 

203 


REMBRANDT 

with  that  of  Julius  the  pope.  There  was  a  series 
of  Bible  scenes,  all  by  famous  painters — Palma 
Vecchio.Jan  Lievens,  who  was  Rembrandt's  friend, 
and  Brouwer,  famous  in  Antwerp  and  also  in 
Amsterdam,  where  he  had  dwelt  for  a  time  in  the 
year  before  Rembrandt  came  to  live  there.  All 
of  these  pictures  were  gems.  Saskia  was  no  novice 
in  art,  and  her  eyes  sparkled  as  she  looked  from 
one  masterpiece  to  another.  But  Rembrandt 
would  not  let  her  linger  long  here. 

"  Come  into  this  room  behind,  dear  Saskia. 
Here  will  our  table  be  spread,  and  here  in  the 
evening  will  I  again  and  again  draw  and  etch 
the  dearest,  loveliest,  winsomest  face  in  all  the 
world." 

"  Oh !  dear  master,  but  it  is  beautiful  here,  so 
beautiful!  so  beautiful!  Why  hast  thou  done  all 
this  ?  Oh  !  what  a  home  !  but  it  needed  not  such 
splendor  when  thou  wert  to  be  in  it." 

"  But  I  wonder  those  sweet  eyes  have  not  found 
my  Rubens.  See  you  it  not  hanging  there  in  the 
full  light?  Ah  !  it  is  a  little  behind  you  !  that  is 
why  you  saw  it  not  at  the  first.  Oh  !  Saskia  !  that 
is  the  masterpiece.  Look  what  color,  what  a  glow  ! 
what  radiance !  nor  is  there  a  fault  in  the  draw 
ing — well  know  I  that." 

"  Oh  !  Rembrandt !  what  a  wondrous  picture  ! 
Indeed,  I  knew  that  there  were  pictures  by  the 
great  Fleming  to  be  had  here  in  Amsterdam, 
but  surely  Hendrik  never  had  one  that  equalled 
that." 

"No,  dearest!  no,  he  never  did.  I  chanced 
upon  this  through  the  kindness  of  a  friend  of  mine, 

204 


an  excellent  man,  one  Lazarus,  a  Jew  who  lives 
close  to  us  here." 

"  A  Jew,  saidst  thou,  an  excellent  man  !  And 
are  we  to  live  near  the  Jews,  dearest  Rembrandt  ?  " 

"  Yes,  indeed,  this  house  is  on  the  outskirts  of 
their  quarter.  They  are  a  fine  people,  and  I  know 
no  more  interesting  models  in  Amsterdam.  Many 
and  many  a  one  have  I  drawn  and  etched  and 
painted.  I  think  of  trying  my  hand  on  my  friend 
Lazarus  very  soon." 

"  Oh,  Rembrandt,  why  do  you  draw  and  paint 
Jews  ?  I  am  afraid  I  like  them  not  over  well. 
Dearest,  tell  me,  are  they  good  and  true  to  you  ? 
Are  you  sure?  Oh!  tell  me  !  Please,  tell  me !" 

"  Saskia,  my  own  darling,  what  ailest  thee? 
Why  will  thou  let  there  be  any  shadow  at  all  on 
our  home-coming?" 

"  I  know  not,  dearest,  if  it  be  a  shadow.  Truly 
my  heart  was  full  of  joy,  overflowing,  when  I  saw 
all  that  thou  hadst  done  for  me  ;  but  it  is  true  I 
shuddered  when  thou  didst  speak  of  this  Lazarus, 
and  indeed  I  know  not  why.  Can  one  so  young 
as  I  always  tell  why  she  shudders?  It  is  likely 
there  is  no  reason  for  it.  Think  of  it  no  more, 
my  own  dear  lord  and  master.  Surely  there  can 
be  no  reason  for  it." 

"  Thou  art  right.  There  is  no  reason.  This 
Lazarus  has  been  of  great  help  to  me.  Without 
his  aid  thy  home  would  not  be  what  it  is.  But, 
Saskia,  I  have  something  to  ask  of  thee.  Truly 
thou  art  so  beautiful  here  in  this  room,  where  we 
are  to  be  together  in  the  evenings  of  the  joyful 
life  now  open  before  us,  that  I  would  make  an 

205 


REMBRANDT 

etching  of  thee,  not  as  thou  standcst  there,  but 
lean  thine  arm  upon  the  table.  Take  not  off  the 
hat.  It  becomes  thee  well.  Sit  there  in  the  great 
Spanish  chair,  and  look  at  me  as  thou  wilt  look, 
God  willing,  each  evening  in  the  coming  years." 

"  Rembrandt,  Rembrandt,  thou  hast  already 
painted  me  often.  Why  wilt  thou  do  it  again  ?  " 

"  I  have  said,  dearest.  It  is  because  thou  art 
so  beautiful,  and  because  I  would  have  mine  own 
picture  of  thee  at  the  time  of  the  coming  to  the 
home  which  thy  life  already  blesses." 

"  Be  it  as  thou  wilt,"  said  Saskia,  and  she  sat 
at  the  table  as  Rembrandt  wished.  In  a  time 
that  seemed  marvellously  short,  there  was  so 
faithful  a  likeness  of  this  beautiful  bride  that 
Saskia  started  back  in  wonder. 

"  Again  hast  thou  succeeded,  for  I  know  it  is 
perfect.  How  couldst  thou  do  that?  There  is 
none  other  that  could.  Thou  art  the  greatest  of 
painters,  and  surely  the  greatest  of  etchers.  Let 
me  see  it  again.  Ah !  yes,  and  this  was  meant 
to  be  in  remembrance  of  our  wedding-time." 

"  Truly  w^s  it,  my  beloved  !  and  also  does  it 
tell  that  often  thy  sweet  face  shall  illuminate  etch 
ings,  and  canvasses  too,  far  larger  than  this.  Never 
was  artist  blessed  with  so  winsome  a  model.  I 
thank  thee,  dearest,  and  now  we  will  see  what  else 
the  house  has  to  offer  thee  for  thy  comfort  and 
thy  happiness.  I  am  glad  I  made  the  etching 
before  I  showed  thee  all,  for  in  the  home,  beloved, 
art  must  be  first  in  our  thoughts,  because,  because 
—Oh!  why?  Why  should  it  be?  Yes,  it  must 
be,  for  art  is  supreme.  I  meant  not  that  art  came 

206 


before  thee  in  my  love.  Thou  knowest  that  is 
not  true,  but  art  has  so  much  to  do  for  the  world. 
Oh,  darling  !  thou  wilt  help  me.  I  know  it.  Per 
haps  thy  Rembrandt  may  tell  to  those  in  other 
ages,  long  after  our  own,  something  about  these 
heroes  that  live  about  us  now,  something  of  the 
loveliness  of  these  Dutch  maidens  who  have  made 
our  land  great  by  the  inspiration  of  their  love  in 
the  hearts  of  these  heroes  who  have  fought  by  sea 
and  by  land.  Nay,  but,  my  dear  lady,  I  talk  too 
much.  Perchance  I  feel  too  deeply  the  spell  of 
thine  own  inspiration.  It  must  be  so,  for  but 
now  I  said  I  would  show  thee  the  rooms  that  as 
yet  thou  hast  not  seen.  Come  hither,  beloved. 
Here  is  the  room  in  which  thou  shalt  repose;  and 
God  will,  I  know,  ever  give  thee  sweet  dreams, 
for  of  naught  that  was  not  sweet  couldst  thou 
dream.  See,  this  room  is  all  in  blue  and  white! 
Didst  thou  not  tell  me  that  on  the  eve  of  our 
wedding  the  sky  was  tenderly  blue,  the  clouds 
dazzlingly  white?  The  dream  was  a  prophecy. 
Look  !  here  are  the  colors  of  which  thou  didst 
speak." 

"  Rembrandt,  Rembrandt,  my  own,  wert  thou 
with  me  in  thought  on  that  evening  when  I  looked 
through  Hiskia's  window?  Truly  do  I  think  thou 
wert  there.  We  were  not  far  apart.  It  is  not 
far  from  Bildt  to  Amsterdam,  but  that  is  not  what 
I  meant.  I  think  thou  knowest  what  I  mean,  but 
I  will  not  tell  thee  if  thou  dost  not  know.  Thy 
Saskia  and  thee  far  apart !  Would  that  be  pos 
sible,  master  mine  ?  Nay,  but  catch  me  now.  We 
will  be  far  apart  unless  thou  dost  catch  me,  for  I 

207 


REMBRANDT 

am  going  to  run  away,  and  you  must  find  me  if 
you  can." 

Saskia  did  as  she  had  said.  With  quick  move 
ment  she  eluded  Rembrandt's  arms,  and,  running 
from  the  room,  found,  just  as  she  crossed  the  thresh 
old,  a  stairway  leading  upward.  Up  this  she 
bounded.  There  was  a  little  light  above  which 
guided  her,  but  when  she  came  to  the  top  of  the 
stair  she  was  bewildered.  There  was  only  one 
light  in  the  great  space,  but  that  served  to  show 
that  many  rooms  were  here,  nor  were  they  joined 
one  to  another.  Saskia,  quite  surprised  at  a  thing 
so  very  unusual  in  a  Dutch  home,  hid  herself  in 
one  of  these  little  rooms  and,  in  so  doing,  over 
turned  an  easel  which  in  falling  made  a  great 
crash.  Rembrandt,  who  had  followed,  laughed 
aloud.  "  And  so,  darling,  will  you  thus  intrude 
upon  my  art  school  on  this  first  night  in  our 
home?  Never  mind,  I  have  caught  thee  now, 
my  sweet  bird,  and  well  I  wot  thou  art  surprised. 
I  had  told  thee  naught  of  this  upper  part  where 
the  pupils  work,  but  if  thou  wouldst  have  waited 
thou  shouldst  have  known  without  all  this  knock 
ing  about  of  easels.  Come,  now,  thou  hast  seen 
enough  of  thine  own  home  for  one  evening.  It 
is  time  to  rest,  for  surely  thou  must  be  aweary." 


208 


CHAPTER  XXVI 

Lazarus  and  Isaac 

LAZARUS  sat  at  his  front  window  looking  to 
ward  the  home  of  Rembrandt.  He  could 
see  well  the  window  of  that  room  which  Rem 
brandt  but  a  little  while  before  had  shown  to  his 
bride — the  room  where  hung  the  beautiful  pict 
ures  bought,  alas!  with  money  furnished  by  the 
Jew. 

"  My  God  !  My  God  !  What  fools  are  these 
Christians.  Why,  that  man  brings  his  bride  here. 
He  tells  her  nothing,  I  wager  my  life,  about  the 
way  he  got  all  those  fine  things  there.  No  !  no  ! 
Lazarus  knows.  He  told  her  nothing  at  all — not 
one  word.  That  is  just  like  him,  just  like  them 
all — the  fools!  the  fools!  Now  what  is  next  to 
do?  I  must  think  a  little.  There  is  now  much 
money  here  in  this  enterprise.  Perhaps  it  would 
be  better  if  I  see  Isaac,  and  have  with  him  another 
talk." 

The  Jew  donned  his  gabardine,  and  started  at 
once  for  the  home  of  his  friend  Isaac,  which  was 
not  far  off.  Isaac  was  at  home  at  the  moment  of 
Lazarus's  coming.  He  was  busy  counting  over  a 
sum  of  money  he  had  just  received,  before  he  took 
it  up  to  the  chest  in  the  attic  which  contained  his 
treasures.  So  absorbed  was  he  in  this  delightful 

209 


REMBRANDT 

occupation  that  he  had  hardly  time  to  sweep  the 
yellow  coins  back  into  the  leather  bag  from  which 
he  had  just  taken  them,  and  which  usually  hung 
from  his  girdle.  He  had  not  time  to  attach  it  in 
its  proper  place,  but  held  it  in  his  left  hand, 
covered  by  a  fold  of  his  robe.  Thus  encumbered, 
he  rose,  somewhat  awkwardly,  to  greet  his  friend. 
Lazarus  noticed  his  slight  embarrassment,  as  he 
noticed  everything,  but  at  the  moment  did  not 
divine  the  cause ;  and  after  the  usual  greetings, 
they  sat  down  by  the  table,  where  Isaac  was  more 
at  his  ease,  for  he  could  better  conceal  the  bag. 

"  I  am  most  glad  to  see  you,  friend  Lazarus,  and 
I  hope  that  all  goes  well  with  our  business  with 
that  painter  fellow." 

"Yes,  that  goes  fairly  well,  friend  Isaac.  Have 
you  not  heard  that  he  is  married,  and  has  brought 
his  lovely  bride  to  the  house  that  I  did  buy  for 
him  ?  " 

"Well,  no!  I  did  not  know  that.  Have  you 
been  there,  Lazarus?" 

"  No,  I  have  not  been  there,  but  I  can  see  the 
house  from  my  window,  and  I  saw  them  there  to 
gether  in  the  front  room.  He  was  showing  her 
the  pictures  that  I  got  for  him." 

"  Friend  Lazarus !  Has  he  paid  nothing  yet 
for  those  fine  things  ?  " 

"  That  I  did  not  say,  Isaac.  Oh  !  yes,  he  has 
paid  something,  but  it  is  not  much.  There  was 
much  interest,  you  know,  and  I  charge  that  up." 

"  Well !  what  per  cent,  do  you  charge  him,  Laz 
arus  ?  " 

"  Well,  I  don't  know.     That  painter  he  was  so 


LAZARUS   AND    ISAAC 

careless,  he  never  asked  me  for  one  statement,  and 
I  believe  he  knows  not  at  all  how  much  he  gave 
me ;  but  when  I  count  that  money  I  will  tell  you. 
You  will  get  big  interest,  Isaac,  but  we  must  wait 
a  long  time  yet.  Meanwhile  that  painter  he  will 
pay  much,  but  he  will  not  pay  enough,  and  we 
will  keep  what  he  pays  for  the  interest." 

"  What  you  mean  is,  you  keep  it,  Lazarus.  Not 
one  florin  do  I  get.  What  are  you  doing  with 
that  money  ?  " 

"  Isaac,  you  are  a  great  big  fool.  We  must 
take  all  that  he  pays,  and  make  him  buy  more  fine 
things;  then  he  will  get  in  deeper  and  deeper,  and 
by  and  by  you  and  I  will  sell  out  all  he  has.  Give 
me  five  hundred  florins,  and  I  will"  add  to  that 
what  he  has  paid,  and  then  I  will  buy  one  other 
grand  painting  that  I  know,  and  I  will  sell  it  to 
him." 

"  Where  do  you  think  I  have  got  so  much 
money?  I  am  poor  now,  Lazarus,  so  help  me 
Abraham  !  There  is  not  one  gold  piece  in  this 
house." 

"  Isaac,  you  are  my  friend,  and  I  will  make 
much  money  for  you,  and  that  you  know  very 
well,  but  you  must  not  tell  me  lies.  What  for  do 
you  do  that?  Will  you  not  let  me  make  you 
rich  ?  Well  I  know  you  have  the  money  now  in 
your  purse." 

This  was  merely  a  happy  guess  on  the  part  ol 
Lazarus,  but  he  was  accustomed  to  good  fortune 
in  such  matters.  It  seemed  a  sort  of  second  nat 
ure  with  him  to  find  gold.  Isaac  started  so  vio 
lently  at  the  unexpected  words,  seemingly  showing 

211 


REMBRANDT 

such  knowledge  of  what  was  beneath  his  robe, 
that  the  heavy  bag  eluded  the  clutch  of  his  left 
hand  and  fell,  with  a  loud  clinking  sound,  full  on 
the  floor.  It  was  manifestly  impossible  to  attempt 
further  concealment  as  to  the  presence  of  money. 
Now,  poor  Isaac  was  in  mortal  terror  lest  Lazarus 
should  find  out  just  how  much  there  was  in  the 
bag.  It  was  indeed  a  goodly  sum,  and  well  did 
Isaac  know  that  Lazarus  would  make  some  clever 
pretext  for  getting  it  all  if  he  could.  Isaac  knew 
perfectly  well  that  he  would  make  an  enormous 
interest  on  his  money  from  this  scheme  that  Laz 
arus  had  devised,  but  he  had  more  of  the  real 
miser's  instinct  than  had  Lazarus.  It  was  like 
tearing  body  and  soul  asunder  for  him  to  part 
with  his  treasure,  even  for  such  a  laudable  and 
hopeful  undertaking  as  this.  Moreover,  he  had 
not  implicit  trust  in  his  friend.  True,  he  had  pro 
tected  himself  by  such  written  agreements  that 
he  knew  he  could  not  lose  even  the  exorbitant 
interest  which  had  been  agreed  upon,  for  Lazarus 
was  perfectly  good  for  sums  far  greater  than  any 
which  Isaac  had  advanced.  Nevertheless  he  was 
obliged  to  trust  the  management  of  the  affair  to 
his  friend  ;  and  it  was  possible,  as  Isaac  well  knew 
from  personal  experience,  for  some  money  to  stick 
to  the  fingers  as  it  was  passed  by  the  hand. 

His  wretchedness  was  only  too  plainly  por 
trayed  on  his  face ;  but  Lazarus,  with  his  accus 
tomed  shrewdness,  forbore  to  take  advantage  of 
Isaac's  unfortunate  predicament.  He  preferred 
to  retain  his  friend's  confidence,  because  in  the 
end  he  would  gain  more  by  such  a  course. 


LAZARUS   AND    ISAAC 

"  Well,  Isaac,  my  friend,  that  money  that  I  heard 
drop  must  have  come  straight  from  heaven,  since 
you  did  not  know  it  was  there.  Now,  pick  you 
that  up  and  go  you  to  your  desk  in  that  other 
room,  and  you  count  out  for  me  what  I  wanted, 
and  you  write  out  another  agreement  that  you 
get  fifty  per  cent,  interest,  and  I  will  sign  the 
paper." 

Isaac,  greatly  relieved,  picked  up  the  purse, 
put  it  again  in  a  fold  of  his  robe,  that  Lazarus 
might  not  see  its  size,  though  he  half-feared  his 
sharp-eyed  friend  could  see  through  robe  and 
purse  too  and  count  all  the  coins.  Therefore  he 
went  in  haste  to  the  other  room,  where  he  did  ex 
actly  what  Lazarus  had  requested. 

"  That  is  all  right,  Isaac.  This  matter  goes  on 
well.  We  need  some  patience,  but  we  can  wait 
when  the  reward  is  sure." 

"  That  is  true,  Lazarus.  Well  I  know  that  all 
is  right  that  you  do ;  but  do  not  wait  too  long, 
Lazarus,  for  I  would  have  my  money  and  the  in 
terest  as  soon  as  possible." 

"  I  will  do  my  best,  but  you  must  leave  the 
time  of  payment  to  me.  You  have  good  secur 
ity." 

"  I  know  that,  I  know  that,  but  the  waiting  is 
hard." 

Thus  muttered  Isaac  as  Lazarus  placed  the 
money  in  his  purse  and  folded  his  gabardine  over 
him  as  he  rose  to  go. 

And  so  thickened  the  plot.  The  skill,  patience, 
and  wealth  of  the  Jews  were  pitted  against  the 
carelessness,  prodigality,  and  demand  for  gratifi- 


REMBRANDT 

cation  of  the  aesthetic  taste  of  the  artist.  In  such 
a  struggle  there  could  be  but  one  issue,  while  the 
characters  and  powers  of  the  parties  involved  re 
mained  as  they  were  at  that  time. 


214 


CHAPTER  XXVII 

Albrecht  Comes  to  the  Castle 

A  LBRECHT  reached  Egmont  after  an  un- 
/~V  eventful  journey.  He  was  strangely  inter 
ested  in  this  quest.  Naturally  warm-hearted  and 
affectionate,  he  had  been  deeply  touched  by  the 
forlorn  condition  of  his  fellow-countryman,  and 
most  sincerely  wished  to  help  him;  but  there  was 
another  cause  for  his  intense  interest,  and  that  was 
the  mystery  that  surrounded  the  whole  matter. 
He  could  not  help  connecting  in  his  thought  the 
sick  man  he  was  seeking  with  the  beautiful  woman 
he  had  so  long  sought  in  vain,  yet  there  seemed 
no  reason  for  such  a  connection  excepting  that 
both  were  Germans.  After  all,  that  was  not  a 
very  bad  reason,  for  there  were  not  a  great  many 
Germans  in  Holland  at  that  time.  Albrecht  was 
all  eagerness,  and  could  hardly  stop  long  enough 
at  the  little  inn  to  make  his  inquiries  as  to  the 
location  of  the  cottage  where  Hildebrand  was 
supposed  to  be.  It  was  not  difficult  to  find  the 
cottage.  It  was  about  a  mile  from  the  inn,  and 
just  behind  the  great  sand-dunes  that  rose  here 
along  the  North  Sea  and,  extending  several  miles, 
formed  a  natural  protection  against  the  inroads  of 
the  waters.  Albrecht  asked  the  good  Dutch  wife 

215 


REMBRANDT 

who  came  to  the  door  in  answer  to  his  knock 
whether  the  sick  Hildebrand  was  there. 

"  No,  mynheer,  he  is  not  here  now.  He  was 
here,  but  one  day  Count  Maurice,  who  has  a  great 
castle  not  far  off,  came  here  to  buy  some  cheeses. 
He  often  does  that,  mynheer,  for  he  likes  them, 
and  they  are  very  good.  Perhaps  mynheer  would 
like  to  taste  one  of  them  ?  " 

"  Not  now,  my  good  woman.  I  thank  you,  but 
I  am  somewhat  in  haste ;  and  what  said  you  this 
Count  Maurice  did?" 

"  Why,  mynheer,  he  found  there  was  a  young 
German  gentleman  here,  and  he  was  very  sick. 
Now  the  Count,  he  loves  Germans.  I  don't  know 
why,  except,  perhaps,  because  he  has  often  been 
in  German}'.  Anyway  he  took  a  fancy  to  the 
young  man,  and  nothing  would  do  but  he  must 
take  him  to  his  own  castle.  He  was  just  as  well 
off  here,  indeed  he  was,  and  I  was  doing  all  I 
could  for  him,  because  I  love  Dr.  Tulp ;  and,  be 
sides,  the  young  man  is  a  good  young  man,  and 
kindly,  and  I  would  go  much  out  of  my  way  to 
serve  him,  for,  indeed,  he  is  lovable ;  but  the 
Count  would  have  his  will.  He  is  headstrong, 
and  there  is  no  gainsaying  him." 

"  Enough,  my  good  woman,"  said  Albrecht,  who 
had  long  been  vainly  trying  to  get  in  a  word. 
"  Where  is  this  castle?  I  must  go  there  at  once." 

"  Indeed,  sir,  it  is  not  hard  to  find.  You  go  back 
to  the  inn  and  take  the  road  that  goes  north,  and 
follow  it  a  mile,  or  it  may  be  two,  but  ye'll  know 
the  place  when  ye  see  it.  There  are  great  gables 
on  it,  and  a  big  tower  with  a  point  to  it  in  the 

216 


ALBRECHT    COMES    TO    THE   CASTLE 

corner,  and  there's  a  moat  that  goes  all  about 
it." 

"Thanks,  heartily,  my  good  woman.  I  must 
go  at  once." 

It  was  not  difficult  to  find  Count  Maurice's 
castle,  but  it  was  a  long  walk,  and  night  was  com 
ing  on  as  Albrecht  reached  the  place.  He  made 
known  his  errand  to  the  warden,  and  there  was  no 
difficulty  about  his  admission.  Count  Maurice, 
hearing  that  his  visitor  was  a  German,  welcomed 
him  gladly,  and  led  him  directly  to  the  sick  man's 
chamber.  The  young  man  was  recovering.  The 
fever  had  left  him ;  but  there  was  the  great 
weakness  and  utter  lassitude  that  naturally  follow 
a  severe  attack  of  malarial  fever.  Nevertheless, 
the  invigorating  breath  of  the  ocean  was  daily  giv 
ing  him  more  and  more  strength,  as  the  wise  Dr. 
Tulp  had  predicted,  and  it  would  not  be  long 
now  before  he  would  be  a  well  man  again.  The 
moment  Albrecht  looked  on  Hildebrand's  face  he 
started,  yet  he  could  hardly  have  told  why.  There 
seemed  something  familiar  about  it,  and  yet  he 
was  sure  he  never  had  seen  this  young  man  be 
fore.  The  truth  is  that  for  a  moment  Albrecht 
thought  he  was  so  like  the  cavalier  whom  he  had 
seen  in  the  streets  of  Amsterdam  that  he  might 
have  been  his  brother.  Albrecht  was  a  keen 
observer  of  faces,  and  it  was  this  very  charac 
teristic  that  had  gotten  him  into  his  difficulties 
of  late.  However,  he  attached  little  importance 
to  this  resemblance,  and  tried  to  dismiss  it  from 
his  mind.  There  were  few  words  said  at  first. 
Hildebrand  was  not  yet  strong  enough  to  talk 

217 


REMBRANDT 

much,  but  he  seemed  grateful  that  his  fellow- 
countryman  "had  come  so  far  to  give  help  to  one 
in  trouble.  Such  was  also  the  thought  of  Count 
Maurice.  "  My  young  friend,"  he  said  to  Al- 
brecht,  "  one  does  not  often  see  such  utterly  un 
selfish  devotion  in  these  cruel  days.  You  say 
you  never  saw  this  young  man  before?" 

"  Never." 

"And  you  came  to  take  care  of  him  simply  be 
cause  he  is  a  German,  and  you  are  a  German. 
Well,  well,  that  is  strange." 

"  Yes,  I  suppose  I  came  for  that  reason ;  but  no 
matter,  I  am  glad  I  am  here." 

Hildebrand  had  again  begun  to  doze  because  of 
his  languor,  and  he  had  not  heard  these  words 
spoken  by  the  Count  and  Albrecht. 

"  Now  that  you  are  here,"  said  the  Count,  "  I 
suppose  you  must  be  installed  as  chief  nurse  in 
charge  of  the  patient." 

"  That  is  what  I  wish,  yet  I  am  embarrassed,  for  I 
fear  I  trespass  on  your  kindness.  You  have  already 
one  German  under  your  roof,  and  now  another 
comes.  Surely  hospitality  could  go  no  farther." 

"  Speak  not  of  it,  Herr  von  Stoltzing.  If  only 
some  of  those  miserable  Spanish  freebooters,  who 
have  often  threatened  me,  do  not  attack  my  house, 
there  could  be  naught  but  pleasure  in  entertaining 
you  both.  I  must,  however,  confess  I  fear  such  an 
attack,  but  I  will  tell  you  more  of  that  later.  Let 
us  now  go  to  rest — you  in  Hildebrand's  chamber 
—I  in  my  own,  which  is  within  call." 

"  Good-night,  most  courteous  host,"  said  Al- 
brecht.  "  Sleep  well." 

218 


ALBRECHT   COMES   TO   THE    CASTLE 

"  And  you  also,  Herr  von  Stoltzing." 
There  had  been  of  late  years  many  attempts  of 
Spanish  privateers  to  harass  Dutch  commerce, 
and  even  to  land  upon  the  coast  and  seize  what 
booty  they  could.  Count  Maurice's  castle,  being 
so  near  the  sea  and  in  a  lonely  situation,  was  a 
particularly  tempting  prize  for  these  buccaneers. 
Several  attempts  to  sack  it  had  already  been 
made,  but  constant  watchfulness  and  the  quick 
assistance  of  Dutch  burgher  soldiers  from  Alk- 
maar  and  Egmont  had  hitherto  warded  off  such 
attacks.  Nevertheless,  if  some  unusually  strong 
body  of  privateers  should  effect  a  landing  on  the 
great  beach  of  Egmont  an  Zee,  and  surmount  the 
dunes  at  some  unprotected  place,  the  count's  cas 
tle  might  have  to  stand  a  siege ;  though  it  would 
probably  be  a  short  one,  for  relief  would  be  sure 
to  come  before  very  long.  Nevertheless,  there 
would  be  danger  in  a  bold  dash  from  such  a  force 
of  Spaniards,  for  sometimes  they  were  very  quick 
with  their  deadly  work.  Of  this  the  Count  was 
well  aware,  and  his  preparations  for  defense  were 
as  well  made  as  possible  under  the  circumstances. 
His  castle  was  not  strongly  fortified,  but  it  was 
capable  of  making  some  resistance,  for  it  was  sur 
rounded  by  a  moat,  and  there  were  a  few  culver- 
ins  mounted  upon  a  low  wall  that  was  between 
the  moat  and  the  castle  and  made  an  outer  defense, 
which  would  have  to  be  surmounted  before  the 
main  building  could  be  reached.  If  there  had 
been  a  strong  force  of  soldiers  within  it  would  not 
have  been  easy  to  take  the  place  by  any  sudden 
attack.  A  siege  would  have  been  necessary  ;  but, 

219 


REMBRANDT 

unfortunately,  the  Count's  retainers  were  few. 
He  had  been  impoverished  in  the  long  wars  and 
could  no  longer  sustain  an  army  of  armed  fol 
lowers,  as  his  ancestors  had  done. 

It  was  not  long  after  Albrecht's  arrival  before 
exactly  what  the  Count  had  foreseen  happened. 
An  unusually  strong  force  of  Spanish  privateers 
made  a  landing  on  the  great  beach,  not  far  from 
Egmont,.  at  a  point  where  the  dunes  happened  for 
the  moment  to  be  unguarded.  Unresisted,  there 
fore,  they  rushed  to  the  top  of  the  sand-hills, 
whence  they  saw  the  Count's  castle,  which  was 
not  far  off.  They  had  been  fortunate  enough  to 
land  just  opposite  to  it.  They  swooped  down 
at  once,  hoping  to  surprise  the  place  ;  but  the 
Count's  servants  were  watchful  and  quick  of  eye. 
They  had  seen  the  steel  caps  of  the  Spaniards 
flash  in  the  sunlight  as  they  stood  on  the  top  of 
the  dunes,  and,  at  once  suspecting  danger,  had 
made  every  preparation  for  defense  they  could  in 
so  short  a  time,  and  had  sent  messengers  to  Alk- 
maar  and  Egmont  to  ask  help.  The  Spaniards 
make  a  quick  rush,  hoping  to  carry  the  place  at  the 
first  assault.  They  had  not  expected  the  fire  of 
the  culverins,  for  it  was  not  generally  known  that 
the  Count  had  thus  fortified  his  place.  The  first 
volley,  delivered  at  point  blank  range,  was  deadly 
in  effect,  and  broke  the  ranks  of  the  advancing 
column.  The  Spaniards  wavered,  hesitated,  then 
fell  back  to  the  shelter  of  the  woods,  which  here 
were  very  thick  between  the  dunes  and  the  high 
road  leading  north  from  Egmont.  This  forest 
was  a  part  of  the  domain  of  the  Counts  of  Holland, 

220 


ALBRECHT    COMES    TO    THE    CASTLE 

and  had  been  used  as  a  royal  hunting  ground. 
Once  within  its  shelter  the  Spaniards  rallied,  and 
the  leaders  took  counsel.  There  had  been  no  pur 
suit.  Clearly,  then,  the  force  within  was  not  a 
strong  one.  There  were  no  signs  of  any  help  from 
without.  Their  ship  was  within  easy  reach,  and 
they  could  retreat  to  it  if  need  be.  They  resolved 
to  surround  the  place  and  cut  off  all  access  to  it, 
until  they  could  get  a  heavy  gun  from  the  ship 
and  destroy  the  walls  on  which  the  culverins  were 
mounted.  It  was  a  bold  scheme;  but  the  force 
was  a  strong  one,  and  such  daring  actions  were 
not  uncommon  in  those  days.  Quite  often  they 
were  successful.  This  was  accordingly  done,  and 
the  Count's  castle  was  besieged.  That  is,  it  was 
surrounded  by  a  force  sufficiently  strong  to  pre 
vent  egress  or  access.  The  Spaniards  for  the 
time  made  little  hostile  demonstration,  except 
some  arquebus  firing,  which  was  designed  to 
keep  the  defenders  behind  their  walls,  and  per 
haps  pick  off  one  or  two  of  them,  if  they  were 
incautious. 

"  I  wonder  what  these  rascals  are  about,"  said 
the  Count  to  Albrecht.  "  Methinks  there  is  some 
thing  sinister  and  of  bad  omen  in  their  waiting  thus 
without  striking  another  blow.  They  must  be  ex 
pecting  help  of  some  kind.  Perhaps  they  may  have 
a  heavy  gun  within  reach,  with  which  they  can 
make  a  breach  in  the  wall  and  dismount  the  cul 
verins.  Ah  !  that  is  it,  I  am  sure.  Their  pirate  ship 
cannot  be  far  off." 

"  I  think  you  must  be  correct,"  said  Albrecht, 
"  though  I  know  but  little  of  such  matters.  In 


REMBRANDT 

truth,  Count  Maurice,  my  life  has  been  turned 
topsy-turvy  ever  since  I  have  been  in  this  country 
of  yours.  I  am  naturally  a  lover  of  peace  and 
quiet,  and  very  fond  of  what  is  artistic,  and  indeed 
of  all  beauty ;  yet  in  Amsterdam  I  have  been  in 
volved  in  adventures  of  a  most  curious  kind  that 
have  kept  me  in  a  turmoil  all  the  time.  And  now  it 
seems  most  likely  I  must  become  a  soldier — some 
thing  even  more  foreign  to  my  habit  than  the  ad 
ventures  of  which  I  just  spoke.  Yet  needs  must 
I  help  in  the  defense  of  your  walls.  Give  me  a 
sword  and  a  steel  cap,  and  I  will  do  the  best  1 
may,  though  I  fear  that  will  not  be  much." 

"You  are  most  kind,  Herr  von  Stoltzing,  and 
I  am  willing  to  wager  a  goodly  sum  on  your 
value,  albeit  you  talk  so  much  in  self-dispraise.  1 
must  accept  your  offer,  for  we  need  all  the  help 
we  can  get  just  now ;  nor  can  I  tell  how  soon  re 
lief  will  come  from  Alkmaar  or  Egmont.  The 
burghers  mean  well.  They  will  come,  but  they 
are  sometimes  rather  slow;  while  the  Spaniard, 
on  the  other  hand,  is  quick  as  a  swooping  hawk." 

Albrecht  went  with  the  Count  to  the  dining- 
hall,  which  was  also  the  armory,  and  he  was  soon 
equipped  with  the  necessary  weapons,  offensive 
and  defensive.  Really  he  was  more  skilled  in 
the  use  of  them  than  he  cared  to  admit,  for  war 
was  not  to  his  liking,  nor  would  he  take  part  in  it 
except  on  compulsion ;  but  in  those  days  there 
were  few  indeed  who  had  not  been  forced  to  fight 
at  times,  and  all  the  youth  were  trained  to  the  ex 
ercise  of  arms. 

They  had  not  long  to  wait  before  action  became 


ALBRECHT    COMES    TO    THE    CASTLE 

necessary,  for  the  watchman  on  the  turret  saw  the 
Spaniards  dragging-  a  large  cannon  over  the 
dunes.  It  was  a  piece  quite  powerful  enough  to 
demolish  their  low  wall,  but  it  was  not  easy  to 
drag  it  through  the  woods  and  get  it  within  range. 
This  difficulty  made  considerable  delay  ;  and  finally 
the  piece  stuck  fast  in  a  low  boggy  place  and  re 
sisted  all  efforts  to  move  it.  The  ground  all  about 
it  was  soft,  and  the  men,  slipping  about  in  the 
bog,  could  not  pull  with  much  force.  It  was  clear 
that  the  Spaniards  were  much  discomfited  by 
this.  Delay  was  not  at  all  to  their  liking,  for  they 
might  be  attacked  at  any  moment;  but  they  did 
not  want  to  give  up  their  cannon,  even  if  they  had 
to  retreat,  and  therefore  they  resolved  to  keep 
the  place  invested,  as  there  was  no  sign  of  ap 
proaching  relief,  and  sent  to  the  ship  for  ropes 
and  pulleys  with  which  they  could  extricate  the 
piece,  which  was  slowly  sinking  farther  and  far 
ther  into  the  bog.  Nature  had  often  fought  for 
the  Dutch  in  ways  similar  to  this. 

"Ha!  ha!  Herr  von  Stoltzing,  see  you  that?" 
said  the  Count.  "  Those  villains  are  balked  by 
the  water  and  the  mud — the  good  angels  of  Hol 
land  !  I  should  not  wonder  if  the  land  itself  could 
capture  the  cannon  without  any  help  from  us. 
There's  a  deep  hole  there,  and  by  good  luck  the 
fellows  have  found  the  very  middle  of  it.  But 
they  do  not  raise  the  siege,  nor  will  they  until 
they  are  attacked  from  without,  but  they  may 
try  another  assault.  The  culverins  are  awaiting 
them,  however,  and  surely  now  it  can't  be  long 
before  our  brave  burghers  come.  I  understand 

223 


REMBRANDT 

not  why  they  are  not  here  already.  Can  you  see 
any  sign  of  them?" 

"  Not  I,  Count.  I  have  been  looking  in  every 
direction  from  the  tower-top,  and  my  eyes  are  of 
the  keenest,  yet  naught  did  I  see  save  a  small 
party  of  riders — three  I  think,  and  two  of  them 
women.  They  came  from  the  Egmont  side,  but 
turned  and  rode  back  at  the  top  of  their  speed  as 
soon  as  they  saw  the  Spaniards." 

"  I  wonder  who  they  might  be  ?  But  if  they  went 
back  toward  Egmont  they  will  give  the  alarm 
there,  if  for  some  reason  my  own  messenger  has 
failed  to  do  so.  He  may  have  met  with  some  ac 
cident.  Indeed,  I  believe  this  must  be  true,  for 
otherwise  those  riders  you  saw,  if,  indeed,  they 
came  through  Egmont,  would  surely  there  have 
been  warned  against  approaching  my  castle.  Me- 
thinks  I  must  send  another  messenger.  I  have 
one  man  skilful  enough,  I  think,  to  elude  the  Span 
iards  at  night  and  bear  me  a  message  to  Egmont." 

"  If,  indeed,  you  seriously  think  of  making  this 
attempt,  my  lord  Count,  will  you  let  the  messen 
ger  take  a  letter  from  me  to  my  friend  Rembrandt 
in  Amsterdam  ?  I  am  greatly  troubled  because  I 
promised  him  that  I  would  be  with  him  at  his 
wedding,  which  is  not  far  off,  and  he  will  not  know 
what  has  become  of  me." 

"  Surely,  surely,  Herr  von  Stoltzing,  the  mes 
senger  can  take  your  letter  as  far  as  Egmont,  and 
there  find  another  who  will  take  it  to  Amsterdam. 
I  would  not  have  him  go  farther  than  Egmont 
himself,  because  I  wish  him  to  stay  there  until 
the  burghers  are  arrived,  and  then  lead  them  back 

224 


ALBRECHT    COMES    TO    THE    CASTLE 

hither  ;  for  he  knows  all  the  by-ways,  and  has  been 
where  the  Spaniards  are  posted,  therefore  he  will 
be  able  to  show  the  burghers  how  best  to  fall 
upon  these  rascals  and  put  them  to  flight." 

"  Most  certainly  that  will  do  as  well, and  I  thank 
you  heartily  for  letting  the  messenger  do  this  for 
me  in  this  time  of  peril.  I  would  make  the  at 
tempt  myself,  but  I  dare  not  leave  Hildebrand  in 
such  a  plight." 

"  Nay,  my  friend,  you  know  not  the  country 
well  enough,  even  if  it  were  possible  for  you  to 
leave.  The  messenger  can  as  well  carry  two  let 
ters  as  one.  Go  you  and  write  your  letter  with 
all  speed,  and  I  will  prepare  mine." 

The  two  letters  were  soon  ready.  Count  Mau 
rice  selected  for  this  dangerous  errand  a  Dutch 
soldier  who  had  long  been  in  his  service.  It  would 
be  possible  at  night  to  swim  the  moat,  and  reach 
a  point  on  the  opposite  bank  where  there  was  a 
small  but  dense  thicket  of  low  bushes.  This  once 
gained,  it  would  not  be  so  hard  to  crawl  through 
the  thicket ;  and  if  there  were  no  Spaniards  on  the 
other  side  of  it,  the  rest  would  be  easy.  It  hap 
pened  to  be  a  very  dark  night  and,  thus  favored, 
the  soldier  successfully  accomplished  his  mission, 
though  he  passed  so  near  the  Spaniards  that  if  he 
had  made  the  least  noise  in  crawling  through  the 
bushes  he  would  surely  have  been  discovered. 


225 


CHAPTER   XXVIII 

Hildegarde  in  Armor 

IT  had  not  been  easy  for  Hildegarde  to  deter 
mine  what  next  to  do.  Her  last  adventure  and 
the  perplexities  which  necessarily  arose  from  it 
had  quite  unnerved  her,  brave  as  she  was;  but  it 
was  only  for  a  time.  After  the  needed  refresh 
ment  and  rest  had  produced  their  due  effect  she 
was  quite  herself  again,  and  lost  not  a  moment  in 
making  her  plans  to  go  to  her  cousin,  whose  pro 
tection  here  in  Holland  she  now  felt  to  be  abso 
lutely  necessary.  No  matter  if  he  were  ill  she 
must  join  him,  because  the  mere  presence  of  a 
man  of  her  own  family  would  justify  her  position 
and  prevent  misconstruction  of  her  actions. 

"  Yes,  I  must  go  to  him  at  once,"  she  said  to 
herself.  "  True,  the  German  is  there,  but  I  care 
not.  I  do  not  know  him.  Why  should  I  think 
about  him?  He  is  nothing  to  me.  But  I  cannot 
go  in  my  disguise,  for  I  might  be  discovered,  and 
that  would  never,  never  do.  Oh  !  no  !  no  !  no  ! — a 
thousand  times  no !  We  will  go  by  the  canal  to 
Alkmaar,  as  Govert  Flinck  told  me,  and  there  will 
we  get  horses  and  go  to  Egmont.  It  is  easy. 
Courage,  Hildegarde !  Why  should  your  heart 
beat,  and  your  nerves  tremble  about  so  simple  a 
.thing?  Why,  it  is  nothing." 

226 


HILDEGARDE    IN   ARMOR 

Thus  half-thinking-,  half-talking  to  herself,  this 
bold  and  beautiful  maiden  sought  again  her  wom 
anly  attire,  and  then  she  called  her  servants. 

"  Wilhelm,  Marjorie,  come  hither.  I  have  some 
what  to  be  done  at  once."  The  two  were  not  far 
off,  and  appeared  together  in  answer  to  her  call. 

"  What  is  't,  my  lady  ?  Wilhelm  is  here.  Wil 
helm  will  do  as  you  wish." 

"  Oh !  eh  !  ah,  my  lady,  and  so  will  poor  Mar 
jorie  !  but  may  God  deliver  us  from  such  an  aw 
ful  time  as  we  had  when  we  came  here  !  I  was 
a'most-a'frighted  out  of  my  senses." 

"  Peace,  Marjorie,"  said  Hildegarde.  "  You  were 
not  hurt,  nor  were  any  of  us.  This  is  not  near 
ly  so  serious  a  matter  ;  but  we  must  make  haste. 
Wilhelm  !  get  places  for  the  three  of  us  on  the  next 
barge  that  goes  hence  to  Alkmaar.  Marjorie, 
pack  my  mails,  your  own,  and  Wilhelm's.  Mean 
while  I  will  to  the  Jew  diamond-broker  and  get 
my  money  on  the  gem  he  valued  but  a  short  time 
ago,  though  really  now  it  seems  an  age.  Make 
haste,  and  let  all  be  ready  when  I  return." 

All  was  done  as  Hildegarde  had  ordered  and 
the  three  went  on  their  way — Marjorie  trembling 
and  frightened,  but  silent,  for  she  stood  in  awe  of 
her  mistress  ;  Wilhelm  stolid,  dogged,  but  with 
his  German  loyalty  fully  aroused,  ready  to  nerve 
him  for  the  protection  of  his  lady  if  help  were 
needed  ;  Hildegarde  herself  with  that  proud  and 
noble  bearing  which  always  distinguished  her,  but 
never  so  brightly  as  in  times  of  difficulty  and  per 
haps  danger.  They  came  at  last  to  the  Egmont 
inn  on  the  horses  they  had  taken  at  Alkmaar,  and, 

227 


REMBRANDT 

alighting  there,  inquired,  as  Albrecht  had  done, 
for  the  cottage  where  Hildebrand  was  staying. 
At  last  they  were  directed  to  the  castle,  and  again 
mounting  their  horses  proceeded  thither.  No 
alarm  had  been  given  at  Egmont,  for  the  Count's 
messenger  had  been  intercepted  by  the  Spaniards, 
whose  advance  had  been  quicker  than  Count 
Maurice  had  supposed.  The  messenger  rode 
straight  into  a  party  of  them,  who  were  occupying 
the  road  from  the  castle  to  Egmont,  and  was  taken 
prisoner  directly.  Thus  the  Spaniards  knew  they 
had  nothing  to  fear  from  an  attack  of  the  burghers 
on  that  side — at  least  for  a  time.  On  the  side  of 
Alkmaar  the  messenger  had  been  successful  in 
accomplishing  his  mission,  though  he  had  narrow 
ly  escaped,  and  had  been  obliged  to  take  a  very 
roundabout  way  and  conceal  himself  for  a  time 
in  the  woods,  all  of  which  had  much  delayed 
him. 

Hildegarde  and  her  escort  rode  onward  with 
out  fear  and  were  soon  nearing  the  Count's  castle. 
The  faithful  Wilhelm  rode  ahead.  Marjorie  stayed 
close  by  her  mistress's  side,  a  little  behind  him. 
Suddenly  at  a  turn  of  the  road  the  castle  was  seen, 
and  at  the  same  moment  the  line  of  Spanish  sol 
diers  about  it.  Wilhelm  turned  at  once,  crying, 
"  My  lady,  my  lady,  go  back.  Ride  for  your  life  ! 
The  Spanish  are  here  !  My  God,  the  rascals  ! 
They  are  swarming  about  the  castle  !  May  God 
be  praised,  they  have  no  horses.  We  can  run. 
Quick!  quick !  " 

In  an  instant  the  little  party  were  rushing  back 
to  the  inn ;  nor  was  it  too  soon,  for  they  had  been 

228 


HILDEGARDE   IN   ARMOR 

seen,  and  one  or  two  shots  were  fired  at  them  by 
the  arquebusiers.  These  were  not  effective,  for  the 
little  party  was  already  out  of  range,  nor  did  they 
check  their  horses  until  they  again  drew  rein  at 
the  inn  from  which  they  had  started  for  the  castle. 

Hildegarde  was  furious,  for  she  thought  the 
mistress  of  the  inn  had  betrayed  her.  That 
worthy  Dutch  matron  was  frightened  as  Hilde 
garde  poured  out  upon  her  a  torrent  of  angry 
words. 

"  Why  did  you  not  tell  me  the  Spaniards  were 
here?  Would  you  have  a  German  noblewoman 
fall  into  the  hands  of  those  miscreants  ?  Abom 
inable  !  Seize  her,  Wilhelm  !  Nay,  better  call 
the  town  to  arms  !  They  will  go  to  the  rescue.  I 
will  take  care  of  her,  and  see  that  she  makes  no 
more  mischief.  Haste,  Wilhelm,  go  to  the  town- 
hall.  Sound  the  alarm.  You  deceitful  wretch, 
go  within ;  and  we  will  follow,  and  take  good 
care  that  you  guide  no  more  innocent  travellers 
into  the  very  midst  of  a  horde  of  bloody  Spanish 
pirates." 

Hildegarde  had  spoken  with  such  fiery  impa 
tience  and  anger  that  the  Dutch  woman  had  not 
been  able  to  say  one  word.  She  simply  stood 
there  amazed  and  cowering  before  this  outraged 
princess,  who  seemed  like  an  offended  deity,  so 
beautiful  was  she  in  her  wrath. 

At  last,  however,  the  amazement  and  horror  in 
the  woman's  face  made  Hildegarde  pause,  and  the 
mistress  of  the  inn  found  time  to  say,  in  broken 
words  :  "  Spaniards!  say  you?  Here? — near  here? 
Where?  Oh!  God  have  mercy!  Spaniards! — 

229 


REMBRANDT 

nay,  rather  devils  of  hell!  How  near? — by  the 
castle?  Oh!  God  help  us  !  They  will  murder  us 
or  worse  !  Think  you  I  knew  that?  God  forgive 
you.  Would  I  have  stayed  here  near  Spanish 
devils?  Within!  haste  you  within.  Ha!  ha! 
ho!  ho!  Pieter!  Johan  !  make  all  fast.  The  Span, 
ish  are  here.  Get  the  arms  together  in  the  big 
hall.  Be  quick,  Bar  and  bolt  all.  They  will  be 
here  anon.  Oh !  my  God  !  my  God  !  the  Span- 
iards  !  Within  !  I  say,  within  !  " 

In  a  few  moments  all  had  taken  refuge  in  the 
inn,  except  Wilhelm,  who  had  gone  to  give  the 
alarm.  Now  Hildegarde's  impetuous  spirit  took 
full  possession  of  her  and  dominated  all  about  her. 
She  directed  everything.  There  were  some  men 
around  the  place.  They  must  be  armed  at  once, 
and  go  to  the  rescue. 

Said  Hildegarde,  "  If  you  Dutchmen  are  afraid 
to  go  and  drive  away  the  barbarous  Spaniard 
from  the  Count's  castle,  I  will  arm  myself  as  did 
Joan  of  Arc  and  lead  you.  There  is  plenty  of 
armor  here."  Under  such  an  impulse  of  ardor 
the  Dutchmen  forgot  to  be  slow,  and  soon  their 
steel  caps  were  on,  pikes  in  hand,  and  some  found 
arquebuses  at  their  homes  and  came  to  join  the 
little  band  at  the  inn.  Just  then  Wilhelm  re 
turned,  bringing  reinforcements  from  Egmont  an 
Zee. 

Meanwhile  at  the  castle  there  had  been  stirring 
events.  The  Spaniards  at  last  got  their  cannon 
out  of  the  bog,  and  soon  trained  it  on  the  low 
walls  on  which  were  mounted  the  culverins.  The 
Count's  gunners  did  their  best ;  but  it  was  slow 

230 


HILDEGARDE   IN   ARMOR 

work  to  fire  culverins,  and  the  Spanish  cannon 
was  superior.  The  affair  seemed  desperate,  but 
just  at  this  moment  the  watchman  on  the  turret 
descried  the  advancing  pikes  and  arquebuses  of 
the  Alkmaar  civic  guard.  He  saw  them  coming 
far  away  across  the  meadows,  and  instantly  the 
word  of  good  cheer  was  given  to  the  Count  and 
the  castle's  defenders.  The  Spaniards  were  just 
about  to  make  their  final  assault,  which,  as  they  be 
lieved,  would  carry  the  place.  They  would  charge 
through  the  breach  made  by  the  big  cannon. 

"  My  lord  Count,"  said  Albrecht.  "  We  must 
stop  that  charge.  The  burghers  are  coming ; 
but  woe  to  us  if  the  Spaniards  get  through  the 
breach.  In  a  few  minutes  they  will  do  their 
deadly  work." 

"  You  say  well,  Herr  von  Stoltzing.  Said  I  not 
in  the  beginning  you  knew  more  of  affairs  of  war 
than  you  would  admit  ?  What  would  you  do 
then?  Advise  me  and  quickly.  They  will  carry 
the  place  in  another  five  minutes." 

"  Not  so,  my  lord  Count.  I  had  foreseen  this, 
and  the  moment  the  breach  was  made  I  caused 
the  culverins  from  the  rear  to  be  brought  into 
your  great  hall  and  trained  through  the  windows 
upon  the  very  breach  itself.  If  they  charge, 
enough  will  be  dead  men  to  make  the  rest  waver, 
and  then  we  can  wait  for  our  Dutch  burghers." 

"  My  German  friend,  I  believe  I  owe  my  castle 
and  perhaps  my  life  to  you.  Direct  all  as  you 
will." 

It  happened  exactly  as  Albrecht  had  said.  The 
Spaniards  attempted  a  charge  through  the  breach ; 

231 


REMBRANDT 

but  the  fire  of  the  culverin  from  the  window  of  the 
hall  killed  many,  and  completely  disconcerted  the 
rest.  They  fell  back  and  retired  to  the  shelter  of 
the  woods. 

"  Now,  Count,"  said  Albrecht,  "  there  is  time  to 
take  Hildebrand  hence.  See  you,  they  have  left 
the  road  to  Egmont  free  !  The  Alkmaar  men  are 
coming,  and  you  will  be  in  no  farther  danger ;  but 
I  fear  all  this  turmoil  of  war  will  be  too  much  for 
the  poor  young  man,  who  is  still  far  from  well. 
Let  me  take  him  and  bear  him  along  yonder  road 
to  the  inn  at  Egmont." 

"  You  are  right,"  said  the  Count.  "  I  fear  noth 
ing  here  now.  The  rascals  will  soon  be  routed. 
The  culverin  is  reloaded.  If  they  charge  again, 
they  will  be  treated  as  before.  Go  then,  and  God 
be  with  you.  See  !  they  have  retreated  far  into 
the  woods.  They  will  not  molest  you." 

Directions  were  quickly  given.  The  sick  man 
was  placed  in  a  litter,  and,  with  the  help  of  four 
of 'the  Count's  servants,  was  borne  from  the  castle, 
and  under  Albrecht's  escort  came  safely  at  last 
to  the  inn.  As  Albrecht  had  foreseen,  the  Span 
iards  did  not  attempt  to  molest  them.  Indeed, 
their  departure  was  not  noticed,  for  the  pirates 
were  entirely  engaged  in  planning  another  attack 
upon  the  castle,  and  for  the  time  were  concealed 
in  the  woods.  When  they  came  to  the  inn,  Al 
brecht  was  greatly  surprised  to  find  it  closed  and 
the  windows  and  doors  barricaded.  He  thought 
at  once  that  this  was  because  of  fear  of  the  Span 
iards. 

"  Ho,  within  there  ! "  he  shouted.  "A  friend,  a 
232 


HILDEGARDE    IN    ARMOR 

friend,  come  to  give  help  against  the  Spanish 
pirates.  Entrance,  I  say." 

The  innkeeper  looked  cautiously  through  a  hole 
in  one  of  the  window-shutters,  and,  seeing  the 
German  who  had  asked  her  the  way  to  the  Count's 
castle,  she  was  at  once  reassured,  and  gladly 
opened  the  door.  Eagerly  enough  Albrecht  en 
tered  and  the  litter  was  borne  in.  "  Place  for  this 
sick  man,"  said  he.  "  I  will  take  him  up  to  the 
large  room  above,  where  he  will  be  out  of  harm's 
way." 

"  Nay,  nay,  sir,"  said  the  innkeeper.  "  There  is 
a  lady  there,  and  I  think,  sir,  she  is  arming  her 
self." 

"  A  lady  arming  herself !  I  do  not  believe  it. 
This  is  another  Spanish  trick.  I  will  myself  go 
thither  at  once.  Keep  you  careful  watch  over 
this  sick  man." 

Albrecht  rushed  up  the  stairs  and  entered  the 
room,  for  the  door  was  not  bolted.  There  stood 
Hildegarde,  just  putting  on  her  armor  with  the 
help  of  Marjorie.  Already  she  had  on  the  breast 
plate  and  the  greaves,  but  the  steel  cap  was  still 
lacking.  She  had  not  found  one  that  would  fit 
her,  and  she  was  angry.  "  These  stupid  Dutch 
men  !  What  big  heads  they  have."  This  she  said 
to  Marjorie,  and  then,  turning,  saw  Albrecht  at  the 
door,  mute  with  astonishment. 

She  dropped  the  steel  cap  she  was  about  to  try 
on,  and  it  fell  with  a  crash  on  the  floor.  Recovering 
instantly,  as  was  her  wont,  from  the  momentary 
confusion  of  surprise,  she  looked  on  the  German 
with  the  haughty  dignity  of  an  offended  princess. 

233 


REMBRANDT 

"  Who  are  you,  sir,  that  dares  thus  intrude 
upon  the  privacy  of  a  lady's  room  ?  Begone,  sir, 
at  once,  or  1  will  force  you  to  go;  "  and  she  caught 
up  a  sword. 

Albrecht's  native  wit  came  to  his  help  at  this 
moment.  "  Madam,  or  sir,  I  crave  your  pardon. 
A  lady's  room,  said  you?  Indeed,  it  scarce  seems 
like  that.  Pray,  forgive  me.  Really  this  armor 
looks  little  like  a  lady's  apparel.  It  is  not  com 
monly  so  worn  in  Germany.  Ah  !  but  I  see  there 
are  some  garments  yonder  that  might  belong  to  a 
woman."  He  looked  at  the  clothes  which  Hilde- 
garde  had  discarded  and  thrown  upon  the  floor  in 
her  haste  about  donning  the  armor. 

It  was  a  home  thrust,  worse  than  Hildegarde 
could  have  given  with  her  sword.  She  dropped 
that  weapon  instantly,  and,  turning  her  back  upon 
Albrecht,  covered  her  face  with  her  hands  to  hide 
her  blushes. 

"  If  you  are  a  gentleman,  sir,  you  will  leave  this 
room  at  once." 

"  Indeed,  indeed  I  will,  now  that  I  know  that 
you  are  a  lady  ;  but  it  was  hard  to  tell — you  know 
how  hard.  Why,  even  in  Amsterdam  I  was  de 
ceived." 

"  In  Amsterdam  ?     What  mean  you,  sir?  " 

"  Oh !  well,  perhaps  it  would  be  better  not  to 
speak  of  it,  since  you  chose  to  forbid  the  discus 
sion,  but  I  was  bewildered.  I  thought  once  I  saw 
a  woman — oh  !  so  beautiful !  Then  again  I  thought 
I  saw  a  man.  Doubtless  I  was  mistaken  about  the 
man.  As  to  the  beauty  of  the  woman  I  could  not  be 
mistaken.  It  seems  to  me  that  I  see  it  again  now.'' 

234 


HILDEGARDE    IN    ARMOR 

"  If  you  are  a  man  of  honor,  leave  a  defenceless 
woman  and  quit  this  place  at  once." 

"Defenceless!  Oh!  I  am  not  at  all  sure  about 
that.  Why,  you  just  dropped  a  helmet  and  a 
sword,  and  you  still  have  on  a  breastplate  and 
greaves." 

"Oh!  I  beg  mercy.  I  did  mean  to  fight,  but 
it  was  for  his  sake — my  Cousin  Hildebrand's.  I 
would  do  anything  for  him.  I  am  a  woman.  I 
hate  the  very  thought  of  fighting.  Have  mercy. 
Leave  me." 

"  I  will  not  leave  you  until  I  know  your  name. 
My  heart  has  long  known  your  face." 

"  You  mistake  me  for  some  other,  sir.  I  am 
sure  you  never  had  speech  with  me  before." 

"  That  may  be  true,  fair  lady,  and  yet  I  know 
you  well.  You  remember  St.  Sebald's  Church, 
on  the  day  of  the  Meistersingers'  festival  ? " 

Hildegarde  started.     Indeed,  she  knew  it  well. 

"  You  were  she  who  gave  the  palm  to  the  young 
German  who  sang  the  best,  as  Hans  Sachs  said. 
I  saw  you  there.  Tell  me  your  name." 

"  It  seems,  sir,  that  you  know  me,  and,  as  I  am 
quite  at  your  mercy,  I  will  say  that  I  am  called 
Hildegarde  von  Lebenthal  ;  but  perhaps,  sir,  in 
the  way  of  courtesy,  it  would  be  as  well  for  you 
to  tell  your  own  name  before  asking  that  of  a 
lady." 

"  I  crave  pardon ;  indeed,  indeed  I  do.  If  you 
knew  what  I  have  sought,  and  how  I  have  suffered 
in  the  search!  But  you  know  not.  Forgive,  then, 
my  rudeness.  My  name  is  Albrecht  von  Stoltzing." 

"  You  are,  then,  of  the  Nuremberg  family.     The 

235 


REMBRANDT 

singer  who  won  the  palm  was  of  the  same 
name." 

"  I  am,  indeed.     He  was  my  cousin." 

Now  it  was  very  strange  that  Hildegarde  seemed 
to  have  quite  forgotten  her  embarrassment  and 
her  anger,  her  imperious  command  that  Albrecht 
should  leave  the  room.  For  the  moment  her 
curiosity  had  quite  got  the  better  of  her ;  but 
just  now  she  turned  a  little  away  from  Albrecht, 
and  her  eyes  fell  upon  her  garments  lying  on  the 
floor. 

"  Leave  me,  sir,  I  pray  you.  You  have  no  right 
to  be  here.  Go,  go  at  once." 

"  Yes,  I  will  go;  but  what  shall  I  do  with  your 
Cousin  Hildebrand?" 

"My  Cousin  Hildebrand!  Oh,  where  is  he? 
It  was  he  whom  I  was  seeking.  To  fight  for  him 
J  was  arming  myself.  Where  is  he?" 

"  Here,  in  a  litter,  below.  He  has  been  very 
ill.  I  have  been  taking  care  of  him,  and  I  brought 
him  hither  from  Count  Maurice's  castle,  which 
the  Spanish  pirates  have  been  besieging.  I  meant 
to  bring  him  to  this  room,  and  that  is  why  I  in 
truded  here." 

"  Thank  God  !  thank  God  !  He  is  safe  then. 
Bring  him  here  at  once.  But  no,  no;  not  yet. 
Wait  until — oh  !  I  beg  you  leave  me.  I  will  come 
to  my  cousin  as  soon  as  I  can." 

Albrecht  this  time  left  the  room,  though  most 
reluctantly.  He  went  down  to  Hildebrand  and 
told  him  that  his  cousin  was  here  seeking  him. 
These  were  tidings  of  good  cheer  to  the  sick 
man. 

236 


HILDEGARDE    IN    ARMOR 

"  Why  does  she  not  come  at  once,  friend  Al- 
brecht?" 

"  Oh  !  well,  she  will  come  directly.  She  was  not 
quite  ready.  She  wanted  to  make  a  change  in 
her  toilet.  Ladies  are  very  careful  about  such 
things,  you  know." 

"  This  is  not  a  time  to  think  about  her  toilet. 
Why,  we  have  hardly  escaped  with  our  lives,  and 
perhaps  even  now  the  Spaniards  are  after  us." 

"Calm  yourself,  she  will  be  here  anon."  In 
deed,  Hildegarde  had  resumed  her  feminine  attire 
in  a  marvellously  short  space  of  time.  She  was 
a  most  energetic  young  lady,  and  just  now  she 
hated  the  armor,  and  all  things  that  men  wore, 
with  a  very  violent  hatred. 

She  soon  appeared  and  greeted  her  sick  cousin 
with  words  of  tender  affection  and  gratitude  for 
safety,  and  then  she  began  to  tell  him  how  long 
she  had  sought  him.  She  seemed  to  forget  Al- 
brecht  altogether.  Not  once  would  she  look  at 
him.  He  was  so  discomfited  because  of  her  thus 
ignoring  him  that  he  left  the  room.  It  would 
have  been  better  had  he  done  that  before,  for 
really  he  should  not  have  been  present  at  such 
a  meeting.  Nothing,  but  his  desire  to  see  Hil 
degarde  again  had  made  him  forget  his  usual 
courtesy. 

Just  at  this  time  Wilhelm  appeared,  for  the 
armed  burghers  from  Egmont  an  Zee,  with  whom 
he  had  been  marching  to  the  relief  of  the  castle, 
were  not  needed,  because  the  men  of  Alkmaar 
had  already  routed  the  Spaniards,  who  had  fled 
to  their  ship,  leaving  their  big  cannon  as  a  trophy 

23? 


REMBRANDT 

for  the  Count.  The  way  was  clear,  then,  for  a  re 
turn  to  Amsterdam,  and  arrangements  for  the 
journey  were  soon  made.  It  was  not  possible  to 
refuse  Albrecht's  escort,  for  he  had  been  so  kind 
and  so  brave  that  Hildebrand  already  loved  him  ; 
nor  did  Hildegarde  dare  suggest  that  she  would 
prefer  not  to  have  him  accompany  them.  So 
they  journeyed  together  by  the  road  and  the  canal. 
The  conduct  of  the  young  lady  by  the  way  was  a 
mystery  to  everyone,  probably  most  of  all  to  her 
self.  She  was  extremely  capricious,  very  haughty, 
and  kept  apart  from  the  others  as  much  as  she 
could.  With  Albrecht  she  would  have  no  speech 
at  all,  if  she  could  possibly  avoid  it,  and  the  poor 
young  man  was  more  unhappy  than  before  he  had 
found  her. 

At  Amsterdam  they  parted.  Hildegarde  took 
her  cousin  to  the  place  where  she  had  been  lodging, 
and  Albrecht  went  direct  to  Rembrandt's  house. 


238 


CHAPTER   XXIX 

The  Home  in  the  Breedestraat 

IT  was  late  in  the  afternoon  when  Albrecht 
reached  the  house  in  the  Breedestraat.  Rem 
brandt  and  Saskia  were  just  about  to  take  their 
evening  meal,  to  which  Albrecht  was  most  cor 
dially  invited  as  soon  as  the  first  hearty  greetings 
had  been  exchanged  between  the  friends.  Then 
they  sat  down  together  in  the  carved,  high-backed 
chairs  around  the  great  table  in  the  dining-room. 
Already  this  house  was  a  home.  The  gentle  spirit 
of  Saskia  filled  it,  and  her  merry  laugh  made  it 
winsome,  while  the  lordly  presence  of  Rembrandt 
dignified  it.  All  this  Albrecht  felt  at  once,  and 
his  heart  was  full  of  joy  for  his  friend. 

"  Why  came  you  not  to  our  wedding,  Herr  Al 
brecht?" 

"But  surely  Rembrandt  has  told  you  why  I 
came  not." 

"  Yes,  yes,  Albrecht.  I  have  told  her.  She  is 
but  jesting  with  you.  My  Saskia  loves  her  jest. 
Verily,  your  messenger  was  in  great  haste.  Not 
one  instant  would  he  delay,  nor  left  he  his  name, 
unless  that  rascal  Jan  was  too  stupid  to  remember 
it." 

"  He  stayed  not,  dear  Rembrandt,  because  he 
thought  of  our  danger  at  the  castle ;  for,  indeed, 

239 


REMBRANDT 

we  were  hard  beset,  and  it  seemed  for  a  time  as  if 
the  big  cannon  of  the  Spaniards  would  have  been 
the  death  of  us  all.  It  might  have  been,  had  it  not 
been  sunk  in  the  bog  so  long." 

"Ah!  what  an  exciting  story!  I  want  to  hear 
all  about  it,"  said  Saskia. 

"I  will  tell  you  gladly  about  it, but  I  crave  par 
don  just  now.  I  would  fain  speak  of  this  beautiful 
home,  which  I  have  never  seen.  What  fine  paint- 
in^s!  Where  did  you  get  them?  Ah!  there  are 

O  j  <r> 

some  of  my  prints!  Rembrandt!  Rembrandt! 
much  I  fear  me  you  have  been  extravagant." 

"Tush,  man,  I  never  knew  you  so  unmannerly. 
The  sea-coast  agrees  not  well  with  your  habitual 
courtesy." 

"True,  true,  I  crave  pardon.  I  believe  I  have 
lost  my  manners.  There  was  cause  enough.  I  have 
been  so  bewildered  ever  since  I  was  at  Egmont, 
and,  indeed,  before,  that  I  verily  believe  some 
times  I  have  lost  my  wits." 

"  But  what  you  say  is  quite  true,"  Saskia  inter 
rupted.  "  He  is  a  bad,  prodigal  man,  and  he  does 
all  these  things  just  because  he  is  foolish  about 
me.  What  shall  we  do  with  him,  Herr  Albrecht?" 

"Indeed,  madam,  I  think  we  would  much  better 
let  him  alone.  Look  how  he  is  frowning  no\v. 
Rembrandt,  be  not  offended,  I  beseech  you.  It 
was  because  I  loved  you  that  I  spoke." 

"  I  think,"  said  the  painter,  "  it  might,  perhaps, 
be  as  well  to  leave  these  matters  to  me.  I  think 
myself  entirely  competent  to  attend  to  them,  and 
feel  perfectly  able  to  buy  as  many  more  pictures 
as  may  suit  my  inclination." 

240 


"  Yes,  yes,  it  is  true,"  said  Albrecht.  "  I  was 
in  the  wrong.  Let  us  forget  the  matter.  I  have 
my  own  troubles  and  perplexities,  and  they  make 
me  irritable,  I  think." 

"  What,  man,  have  you  not  found  her  yet?" 

"  Found  her  ? "  said  Saskia.  "  Is  there  a  romance 
about  our  German  friend  ?  Tell  me  about  it,  Herr 
Albrecht.  I  love  romances,  and  perhaps  I  can 
help  you.  I  will  if  I  can,  because  you  are  so  true 
a  friend  to  my  lord  Rembrandt." 

"  Well  know  I,  dear  lady,  that  you  would  do  all 
you  could  to  help  me  ;  but  what  there  is  to  do  I 
know  not.  It  is  true,  I  found  the  lady  of  whom 
Rembrandt  speaks;  and  when  I  found  her  she  was 
just  putting  on  armor,  that  she  might  go  and  fight 
the  Spaniards  who  were  besieging  Count  Mau 
rice's  castle.  She  is  an  enigma.  I  understand 
her  not  at  all ;  but  she  is  as  beautiful  as  an  angel, 
though  haughty  as  a  queen." 

"  Albrecht,  Albrecht,"  said  Rembrandt,  laugh 
ing  most  heartily.  "  Ho,  ho,  I  have  an  idea. 
That  putting  on  armor — well,  well,  ha!  ha'!  ha! 
It  must  have  been  your  lady-love  who  was  here 
at  the  studio  seeking  her  cousin  !  She  was 
dressed  as  a  man,  and  I  wranted  to  paint  her  por 
trait,  because  I  was  so  strongly  impressed  with 
her  peculiar  expression — a  mingling  of  daring  and 
shyness  such  as  I  had  not  before  seen — and  1 
wanted  to  paint  her  as  a  man  !  Ha  !  ha  !  I  won 
der  not  she  was  embarrassed  ;  but  I  do  wonder 
that  I  saw  not  more  clearly.  Truly,  her  disguise 
was  a  clever  one,  and  her  acting  was  equally 
good." 

241 


REMBRANDT 

"Think  you  so,  indeed,  Rembrandt?  Surely 
it  might  have  been.  The  maiden  is  capable  of 
anything ;  but  much  I  fear  she  will  have  no  more 
to  do  with  any  of  us  since  her  masquerading  has 
been  discovered.  Scarce  would  she  speak  to  me 
during  all  the  journey  from  Egmont  hither." 

"And  what  would  you  expect?  "said  Saskia, 
with  a  gay  laugh.  "  Would  you  think  a  woman 
discovered  in  such  a  guise  would  be  very  affa 
ble  ?  But  you  are  foolish  to  be  downhearted. 
The  very  fact  that  she  would  not  speak  to  you 
shows  that  she  cares  about  you,  and  that  is  the 
main  thing.  Tell  me  the  name  of  this  fair  lady. 
I  will  find  her  and  bring  her  here,  and  you  shall 
see  her.  Have  no  fear." 

Albrecht  told  where  was  the  place  of  lodging 
to  which  Hildegarde  had  taken  Hildebrand  ;  and 
then,  indeed,  the  young  man  did  begin  to  take 
heart.  There  was  something  contagious  about 
Saskia's  cheerfulness  and  mirthful  spirit. 

Soon  the  little  company  were  very  happy  to 
gether,  talking  over  the  many  things  which  had 
happened  since  last  they  met  and  making  plans  for 
the  future. 

Rembrandt  was  full  of  his  portraits,  and  also  of 
the  pictures,  the  "  Descent  from  the  Cross  "  and 
the  "  Raising  the  Cross,"  which  he  soon  afterward 
sold  to  Prince  Frederic  Henry,  one  of  the  sons  of 
that  William  the  Silent  with  whom  Saskia's  father 
had  sat  at  table  just  before  his  assassination  at 
Delft.  Another  question  was,  where  Albrecht 
was  to  live.  He  would  not  leave  Amsterdam  so 
long  as  Hildegarde  remained  there. 

242 


THE   HOME   IN   THE   BREEDESTRAAT 

Now  Rembrandt  had  given  up  the  old  studio 
when  he  had  come  to  live  with  his  bride  in  the 
Breedestraat.  Lazarus  had  cunningly  taken  the 
lease  of  that  off  his  hands,  and  made  money  for 
himself  by  the  transaction.  Albrecht  would  not 
live  with  Rembrandt,  now  that  he  was  married. 
They  talked  this  matter  over  and  over.  Really, 
Albrecht  was  only  staying  in  Amsterdam  because 
Hildegarde  was  there  ;  but  still  he  had  some  prints 
left,  and  perhaps  Hendrik  might  sell  them,  and 
there  might  be  something  else  to  do.  It  so  hap 
pened  that  Hendrik  came  in  at  that  very  moment. 

"  Ho  !  ho  !  ha !  ha !  how  happy  we  are,  to  be 
sure  ;  why,  of  course.  Well,  now,  cousin,  don't  be 
angry  with  me  for  laughing  about  your  billing  and 
cooing.  Hendrik  is  old,  you  know,  but  he  re 
members  his  own  youth  ;  and,  oh  !  Hendrik  knew 
about  all  that  love-making  once,  because  he  tried 
it." 

"  I  must  say,  Cousin  Hendrik,  that  your  jesting 
is  somewhat  abrupt,"  said  Saskia,  pouting  a  little. 

"  Yes,  yes,  I  dare  say  !  I  am  always  that  way. 
You'll  have  to  forgive  me,  and  then  we'll  talk  about 
something  else.  But  then,  you  knowr — 'really, 
you  know — you  don't  want  to  talk  about  any 
thing  else.  Why,  of  course  you  don't.  Ha  !  ha  ! 
I  wish  I  was  young  again.  On  my  soul,  Cousin 
Rembrandt,  you've  made  a  palace  here.  No  nest 
for  a  bride — oh!  no,  a  home  for  a  princess.  Well! 
well !  It's  all  right.  Oh,  ho  !  how  these  pictures 
must  pay.  I  wish  I  was  a  painter,  and  not  a  print- 
seller.  There's  no  money  in  my  trade  ;  why,  one 
of  your  pictures  will  sell  for  more  than  I  can  make 

243 


REMBRANDT 

in  a  year.  Oh,  dear  !  Oh,  dear  !  I  feel  very  sad 
sometimes,  especially  when  the  good  wife  is  pee 
vish  ;  and  that  happens — but  God  forbid  that  I 
should  say  anything  against  her.  Oh  !  she  is  a 
great  woman  —  sleepy  sometimes,  but  for  the 
most  part  wide  awake.  Oh  !  very  wide  awake  in 
watching  me.  Oh  !  she  is  a  grand  woman,  and 
I'm  a  very  happy  man  ;  but  if  I  were  only  a  painter! 
Oh  !  look  at  that  Rubens  !  Why,  Cousin  Rem 
brandt,  where  got  you  that?" 

"  Hendrik,  what  ails  you?"  said  Rembrandt. 
"  Methinks  some  of  that  noble  Rhine  wine  of 
yours  has  gone  to  your  head.  There's  nothing 
here  of  much  account.  Why  talk  you  so  much 
about  it?  The  Rubens?  Yes,  that  is  great.  I 
came  by  that  through  the  kindness  of  my  friend 
Lazarus,  a  noble  Jew,  who  lives  near  by." 

"A  Jew!  a  Jew!  Oh,  Cousin  Rembrandt !  Do 
say  that  is  not  true.  You  deal  not  with  Jews. 
Tell  me,  it  is  not  true.  Alas,  and  alackaday ! 
What  am  I  good  for,  if  I  cannot  sell  you  pictures? 
It  is  my  trade,  nor  would  I  make  any  Jew  bar 
gains  with  you.  Hendrik  is  honest,  oh  !  yes  !  The 
Rhine  wine  may  go  to  his  head  sometimes,  but 
it  never  makes  him  cheat.  Beware  of  the  Jews, 
Cousin  Rembrandt.  I  beseech  you  to  trust  them 
not.  I  know  them  well.  Lazarus,  you  said  ?  I 
know  the  man — one  of  the  shrewdest,  and,  I  think, 
the  worst  of  them  all." 

"  Now,  Cousin  Hendrik,  I  know  the  Rhine  wine 
has  gone  to  your  head.  This  Lazarus  is  one  of 
the  finest  men  I  ever  met,  and  one  of  my  truest 
friends.  It  would  be  impossible  for  me  to  tell 

244 


THE   HOME   IN   THE   BREEDESTRAAT 

you  how  much  he  has  done  for  me,  and  how  much 
he  is  willing  to  do.  Few  have  cared  for  my  work 
as  he  has.  He  understands  art.  He  is  a  learned 
man.  I  think  he  is  a  great  man.  He  wishes  me 
to  paint  for  him  an  important  picture,  and  he  has 
friends  here  about  him  whom  he  has  taught  to 
like  my  art.  The  making  of  my  fortune  is  in  his 
hands.  Be  careful,  Hendrik,  how  you  speak  ill  of 
one  who  has  done  so  much  for  me." 

"  Is  it  so  ?  Indeed!  alas!  alas!  The  Jews  !  the 
Jews !  Oh  !  yes,  fine  people — learned,  rich.  Yes ! 
yes!  they  will  make  your  fortune,  you  said?  Oh  ! 
truly,  yes.  I  thought  they  generally  made  their 
own,  but  Hendrik  knows  not.  Hendrik  is  blunt 
and  stupid,  and  may  be  he  has  the  Rhine  wine  in 
his  head.  Heed  him  not.  Better  so,  is  it  not, 
Cousin  Saskia?  " 

Saskia  had  kept  silence  during  this  talk  ;  but 
her  sympathies  were  all  with  Hendrik.  From  the 
first  she  had  felt  an  aversion  to  this4Lazarus  whom 
she  had  never  seen,  but  whose  influence  over  her 
husband  she  felt  and  saw  plainly. 

"Oh,  Rembrandt!  indeed,  I  think  Hendrik  is 
right.  Oh  !  my  dear  lord,  I  pray  thee,  shun  these 
men.  They  will  work  thee  ill." 

"  Peace,  Saskia.  Thinkest  thou  thine  husband 
unable  to  care  for  his  own  affairs  ?  It  is  indeed 
strange  that  thou  and  thy  cousin  should  make  this 
turmoil  about  a  man  whom  neither  of  you  know, 
and  one  who  has  been  of  great  help  to  me,  and  will, 
as  I  believe,  do  much  more  for  me.  I  pray  you, 
hold  your  peace  on  this  subject.  Let  me  at  least 
think  that  you  believe  me  to  be  of  sound  mind." 

245 


REMBRANDT 

Rembrandt  was  greatly  offended.  His  pride 
had  been  touched.  He  arose  from  his  chair  and 
left  the  room. 

"  Oh  !  Hendrik,  I  am  so  sorry  we  have  offended 
him ;  and  really  there  was  no  need.  We  know 
naught  of  this  Lazarus.  We  are  in  the  wrong." 

"Yes,  yes,  Cousin  Saskia,  that  is  true.  I  must 
go.  It's  just  like  poor  Hendrik  ;  I  always  blun 
der  like  that.  Dear  me;  oh  !  dear  me.  I'm  afraid 
it's  the  Rhine  wine,  and  I  know  that  is  why  I 
don't  make  more  money.  I  must  go,  and  I  am 
sorry.  The  first  visit,  too.  Oh,  dear,  the  Rhine 
wine,  the  Jews — which  is  the  worse,  I  wonder? 
They're  all  mixed  up  together  in  my  head.  But 
the  wine  is  a  noble  wine.  I  don't  believe  the  Jew 
is  noble;  no,  I  don't.  Farewell, cousin.  Tell  Rem 
brandt  I  meant  no  offence.  I  will  come  again 
soon,  if  you  will  let  me,  for  indeed  I  meant  no 
harm.  Please  forgive  poor  Hendrik." 

The  honest  print-seller  left,  greatly  deploring  the 
harm  he  seemed  to  have  done,  and  yet  not  quite 
able  to  see  why  what  he  had  said  was  not  true. 
All  the  way  home  he  kept  on  muttering,  "  The 
Jews,  the  Jews  !  In  the  hands  of  the  Jews!  Oh  ! 
dear  !  oh  !  dear!  and  just  at  the  beginning  of  life  .' 
Oh !  the  Jews !  "  He  was  so  disconsolate  when  he 
reached  home  that  an  unusually  large  bumper  of 
the  noble  Rhine  wine  was  needed  to  console  him. 

Saskia  went  in  search  of  Rembrandt.  She 
found  him  busy  in  preparing  a  plate  for  an  etch 
ing.  His  ill-temper  had  entirely  disappeared.  In 
deed,  he  seemed  to  have  quite  forgotten  that  any- 
thing  unpleasant  had  happened.  He  was  entirely 

246 


THE   HOME   IN   THE   BREEDESTRAAT 

absorbed  in  a  new  art-thought ;  but  he  paused  in 
his  work  to  say  a  tender  word  to  the  young  wife, 
and  to  smile  upon  her  with  the  loving  smile  that 
made  her  heart  beat  wildly  with  gladness.  She 
forgot  all  about  the  Jews. 


24? 


CHAPTER   XXX 

Saskia  s  Sacrifice  for  Art 

THE  home  life  went  on  quietly,  but  joyously. 
Rembrandt  hardly  ever  left  his  house  ex 
cept  when  called  away  on  matters  connected  with 
his  art.  It  seemed  that  he  cared  to  see  no  one  else 
in  the  world  but  the  beloved  Saskia.  Even  Al- 
brecht  was  forgotten,  unless  he  came  to  the  home, 
which  he  often  did.  The  faithful  German  took  it 
not  amiss  that  his  friend  came  not  to  see  him. 

"Why,  what  could  be  more  natural  ?"  said  Al- 
brecht  to  himself.  "  He  has  his  Saskia.  He 
loves  her.  God  bless  them  both  !  If  I  had  my 
Hildegarde,  methinks  I  would  stay  at  home  with 
her.  I  would  ask  nothing  better.  Perhaps  I  go 
to  see  them  too  often.  It  may  be  that  I  am  in 
the  way,  but  I  can't  help  it.  That  lovely  Saskia 
has  promised  to  bring  Hildegarde  there,  and  she 
will  keep  her  word.  It  will  not  be  long  now. 
vShe  will  soon  succeed.  Nobody  could  resist  Sas' 
kia.  I  wonder,  now,  whether  she  has  seen  her 
yet.  I  must  go  over  there  again,  and  Saskia  will 
tell  me  what  she  has  done." 

He  went,  but  Saskia  had  not  seen  Hildegarde. 
She  had  been  too  entirely  engrossed  by  Rem 
brandt.  Each  evening  a  new  etching  of  her  was 
to  be  made.  The  painter  never  tired  of  his  charm. 

248 


SASKIA'S   SACRIFICE   FOR   ART 

ing  model ;  and  Saskia's  love  made  her  always  a 
willing  sitter,  even  if  at  times  she  became  a  little 
tired.  She  would  gladly  have  given  her  life  itself 
for  the  man  whom  she  adored. 

One  day  Rembrandt  brought  a  woman  into  the 
house,  and  took  her  to  the  studio.  She  was  a 
very  coarse-looking  creature,  and  made  Saskia 
shudder.  A  long  time  Rembrandt  kept  her  in 
the  studio,  while  Saskia  waited  anxiously.  At 
last  she  went  away,  and  Saskia  opened  the  studio 
door  and  entered.  Rembrandt  was  still  busy  on 
a  painting  of  a  nude  figure.  It  was  not  a  pleas 
ing  picture,  for  the  model  was  not  well-formed, 
and  was  even  repulsive  in  her  grossness. 

"  Rembrandt!  oh  !  why  do  you  paint  creatures 
like  that?  They  are  not  worthy  of  your  brush." 

"  Well  know  I  that,  sweet  wife  of  mine,  but 
here  in  Amsterdam  I  cannot  find  any  better 
models  than  this  one  whom  you  saw.  There  are 
few  who  will  consent  to  pose  for  me,  and  paint 
the  nude  I  must.  There  is  no  great  artist  who 
does  not  do  that.  It  is  the  basis  and  also  the 
highest  touch  in  great  painting,  for  even  draped 
figures  must  be  conceived  with  a  thorough  knowl 
edge  of  the  nude  model." 

"  Is  that  true,indeed?"  said  Saskia,  thoughtfully. 
"  1  did  not  know  that,  nor,  indeed,  much  else  about 
art,  except  to  love  it,  and  to  reverence  thee  as  its 
greatest  master." 

"  Yes,  it  is  true,"  said  Rembrandt,  "and  I  suffer 
daily  because  I  can  find  none  to  paint  but  these 
coarse  creatures.  I  know  not  what  I  shall  do 
about  this  matter,  for  I  fear  my  art  will  be  misun- 

249 


REMBRANDT 

derstood,  possibly  even  debased,  unless  I  can  find 
models  in  whom  there  is  something  of  beauty." 

"  I  am  sorry,  oh !  so  sorry,  dear  lord,  and  I  am 
sorry  not  only  for  thee,  but  for  myself.  Oh ! 
Rembrandt!  how  can  I  have  such  creatures  in 
my  home  ?  I  cannot  tell  thee  what  pain  it  gives 
me." 

"Nay,  nay,  my  own,  if  thou  art  troubled  I  will 
paint  no  more.  There  shall  be  no  line  of  care  of 
my  making  on  that  fair  brow  of  thine." 

"  But  thou  shalt  not  give  up  thine  art.  In  that 
thou  art  a  king,  and  thou  sayest  this  painting 
from  the  nude  is  a  necessity?  Without  it  thou 
canst  not  reach  the  heights  thou  aimest  to  reach? 
Saskia  does  not  understand  ;  Saskia  wishes  to 
think.  Let  me  go,  dear  lord.  I  would  be  alone 
for  a  little  while.  I  will  join  thee  at  the  evening 
meal.  I  would  think.  Perhaps  thy  Saskia  may 
help  thee — but  I  would  think." 

Saskia  left  the  studio.  Rembrandt  turned  again 
to  his  easel,  and  was  soon  utterly  absorbed  in  fin 
ishing  the  picture  already  nearly  completed.  He 
did  not  think  again  of  the  serious  words  Saskia  had 
said  as  she  left  him.  Indeed,  he  had  hardly  un 
derstood  them,  for  all  the  time  while  she  had  been 
talking  his  mind  had  been  partly  on  his  picture. 

Meanwhile  the  young  wife  had  gone  to  her 
room  that  she  might  be  alone  and  think.  "  Oh  !  I 
cannot  have  those  creatures  here  !  They  pollute 
the  house.  Yet  he  said  he  must  paint  from  the 
nude,  and  none  but  such  as  they  would  pose  for 
him.  His  art  would  suffer,  would  die,  if  he  could 
not  paint  from  the  nude.  Yes,  he  said  so.  He 

250 


SASKIA'S   SACRIFICE    FOR   ART 

knows.  Why  is  it  so,  I  wonder?  I  know  not, 
but  he  knows.  He  tells  always  the  truth.  Why 
will  not  the  better  women  be  his  models?  It  is 
only  to  serve  his  art.  There  could  not  be  a  higher 
object.  To  help  him  is  to  help  one  of  the  heroes 
of  the  art  world.  There  has  never  been  so  great 
a  one.  There  never  will  be  again.  It  is  a  duty 
and  a  privilege  to  help  him.  Saskia  !  Saskia!  of 
what  art  thou  thinking  ?  Why  reproach  others  for 
not  doing  that  which  you  do  not  offer  to  do  your 
self?  Surely,  if  it  is  anyone's  duty  to  help  him,  it 
is  yours.  You  are  his  Avife.  It  is  not  only  your 
duty,  but  your  joy  and  privilege,  to  help  him  in 
every  way  you  can.  Oh!  why  did  I  hesitate? 
Gladly  will  Saskia  be  his  model,  if  he  wants  to  paint 
her.  It  is  a  little  thing  to  do  for  him,  and  often 
have  I  thought  I  would  gladly  lay  down  my  life 
itself  for  his  sake.  I  will  tell  him,  and  he  shall 
paint  me,  and  banish  from  our  home  these  creat 
ures  from  the  streets." 

At  last  Rembrandt  finished  his  work,  and  came 
down  to  the  dining-room  for  the  evening  meal. 
Saskia  was  waiting  for  him.  Her  cheeks  were 
flushed,  and  her  eyes  were  bright.  Her  laughing 
mouth  was  for  the  moment  sweetly  serious.  By 
this  time  Rembrandt  had  entirely  forgotten  their 
talk  in  the  studio,  and  he  was  at  a  loss  to  account 
for  the  suppressed  excitement  of  Saskia's  manner. 
He  knew  that  never  had  she  looked  so  beautiful. 
Such  seriousness,  such  look  of  high  resolve,  well 
became  the  merry  maiden  he  loved.  It  did  not 
banish  the  charm  of  her  cheerfulness,  but  added 
to  her  expression  a  depth  over  which  the  ripples 

251 


REMBRANDT 

of  mirth  would  play  all  the  more  delightfully  be 
cause  of  the  contrast. 

Rembrandt  looked  in  almost  amazed  admiration 
at  Saskia's  glowing  face ;  yet  the  courtly  painter 
questioned  her  not  as  to  the  cause  of  such  un 
wonted  excitement  until  the  meal  had  been  served 
and  the  maid  left  them  alone.  He  spoke  of  his 
work  of  the  day  as  he  always  did,  and  Saskia 
listened.  Sometimes  she  put  in  a  bright  word  or 
laughed  a  merry  little  laugh,  as  was  her  habit. 
This  evening  time  in  the  home  was  already  so  de 
lightful  to  them  both,  that  neither  would  leave  it 
from  choice.  They  lingered  around  the  table. 
The  Rhine  wine  and  the  cheese  were  there.  The 
beautiful  pictures  were  about  them.  Sometimes 
there  was  a  glowing  fire  under  the  great  chimney- 
piece,  and  the  dancing  light  of  the  flames  was  re 
flected  from  the  polished  wood  and  the  shining 
leather  of  the  high-backed  chairs.  Often  at  these 
times  Rembrandt  brought  out  his  etching-plate 
and  needle,  and  reproduced  again  and  again  the 
fair  features  of  his  wife  as  she  sat  opposite  him. 
In  these  etchings  he  immortalized  both  her  and 
himself.  This  evening,  contrary  to  his  wont,  he 
did  not  seek  to  etch,  but  sat  watching  Saskia,  for 
he  felt  she  had  something  to  tell  him.  He  had  not 
long  to  wait.  Presently  Saskia  looked  up  and 
said,  "Rembrandt,  my  lord,  I  have  somewhat  to 
say  to  thee." 

"Say  on,  my  beloved.  Well  knew  I  that  thy 
dear  mind  was  exercised  about  something  that 
has  much  excited  thee.  Tell  me,  then,  what  it  is." 

41  Oh  !  my  dear  master,  I  scarce  know  how  to  tell 


SASKIA'S    SACRIFICE    FOR    ART 

thee ;  but  I  am  troubled,  so  troubled,  about  that 
woman  who  was  here  to-day.  I  cannot  bear  to 
have  such  people  in  this  home.  It  can  be  helped. 
I  know  it  can.  Surely,  surely,  thou  wouldst  rather 
paint  me." 

"  Saskia,  Saskia  !  What  sayest  thou  ?  How  ever 
came  such  a  thought  to  thee  ?  How  couldst  thou 
ever  dream  that  I  would  ask  of  thee  to  serve  me 
in  such  a  way  ?  " 

'•  I  knew  thou  wouldst  not  dream  of  it  unless  I 
told  thee  how  I  abhorred  the  woman,  and  how 
willing  is  my  love  to  make  even  greater  sacrifices 
for  thee  and  thy  divine  art.  Thou  saidst  it  was 
necessary.  Who  should  minister  to  thy  necessities 
except  thine  own  Saskia?  " 

"  My  own  beloved !  Never  was  woman  like 
thee  !  Thou  art  the  very  perfection  of  love  ;  and 
now  wouldst  thou  be,  besides  that,  the  inspiration 
of  a  struggling  painter.  Scarce  know  I  what  to 
say  to  thee.  I  am  all  unworthy  of  such  a  treasure. 
But  no,  Saskia,  no,  I  will  not  ask  this  of  thee." 

"  Thou  didst  not  ask  it,  my  dear  lord." 

"  Let  us  talk  no  more  of  it ;  but  this  I  tell  thee, 
I  will  not  have  the  woman  here  again,  since  thou 
likest  it  not.  No  more  now,  dear  one.  I  am  quite 
overcome  by  thine  unselfishness." 

"  It  is  not  unselfishness.  Thine  art  is  my  glory. 
Gladly  would  I  minister  to  it  in  any  way  that  I 
can." 

"  No  more,  Saskia,  I  pray  thee,  no  more,  not 
now.  Let  me  think  awhile  of  what  thou  sayest. 
Think  thou  also.  This  may  be  the  outcome  of 
some  sudden  excitement." 

253 


REMBRANDT 

"Nay,  my  lord,  I  have  thought  calmly  over  it; 
but  I  will  say  no  more  now,  since  thou  bidst  me 
not.  I  am  only  happy  in  making  thee  happy  and 
in  doing  thy  bidding." 

For  some  time  this  subject  was  not  mentioned 
again  between  them.  For  awhile  Rembrandt 
took  to  painting  himself  a  great  deal  in  what  he 
called  his  leisure  hours.  There  were  not  many  of 
these,  for  his  position  seemed  now  assured,  and 
commission  after  commission  came  to  him.  Nev 
ertheless,  he  painted  and  etched  himself  a  most 
astonishing  number  of  times,  donning  new  cos 
tumes,  and  taking  a  great  variety  of  positions, 
even  assuming  different  characters.  But  all  this 
time,  though  he  spoke  not  of  it,  the  thought  of 
Saskia's  words  was  in  his  mind.  At  first  he  re 
belled  against  even  the  suggestion  of  such  a  thing. 
He  would  not  thus  use  the  lovely  woman.  Perish 
the  thought!  Then  he  would  go  on  with  the 
great  portraits,  and  his  interest  and  absorption 
would  cause  him  to  forget  all  about  it  for  awhile. 
Saskia  said  no  more.  She  saw  her  husband  busy 
from  early  morning  until  late  in  the  night  with  the 
work  that  he  loved  above  all  else.  She  thought  he 
was  happy,  and  that  was  true.  But,  by  and  by,  there 
came  again  this  longing  to  paint  from  the  nude. 
It  seemed  a  necessity  to  study  always  the  human 
figure.  There  was  one  portrait  of  the  shipmakers 
wife  that  was  giving  him  much  trouble.  "  I  must 
study  again  from  the  nude,  or  I  shall  make  a  fail 
ure  of  this.  How  quickly  we  forget.  The  flesh- 
tones,  the  forms  of  the  muscles,  the  shadows 
that  even  in  drapery  can  only  be  correct  if  the 

254 


SASKIA'S    SACRIFICE    FOR   ART 

underlying  form  is  well  drawn  !  Oh  !  it  is  true  ! 
art  is  divine.  Saskia  said  so.  She  will  help  me. 
She  longs  to  help  me.  What  harm  can  it  do? 
Surely  none.  She  is  beautiful.  My  art  will  live 
through  her.  I  will  paint  her,  then,  as  she  said, 
and  she  will  inspire  me;  and  we  will  keep  the 
picture  here  in  the  home,  for  she  shall  not  be 
shamed."  Thus  did  the  selfish  passion  for  art 
overcome  the  delicacy  that  should  be  in  a  love  so 
intense  and  so  pure  as  was  Rembrandt's  love  of 
Saskia.  But  there  was  a  grievous  temptation. 
The  lovely  woman  herself  had  urged  him  on,  and 
art,  his  mistress,  completed  his  conquest.  Nay, 
he  did  but  what  many  another  had  done.  Why, 
there  was  hardly  a  great  artist  whose  wife  had  not 
been  his  model.  Surely  he  could  not  be  blamed 
for  following  in  the  footsteps  of  the  masters,  and 
then  he  had  not  asked  it.  Saskia  had  herself 
urged  it  upon  him.  No  need  to  tell  the  result  of 
this  struggle.  All  the  world  knows  the  pictures 
that  Saskia  inspired.  It  is  true  that  she  was  an  in 
spiration  to  his  art,  and  Saskia  loved  to  know  that. 

There  were  some  things  in  the  painter's  life  at 
this  time  that  began  to  trouble  the  devoted  wife 
a  little. 

"  Rembrandt,"  said  she,  one  day,  "  why  goest 
thou  not  from  the  home  at  times  to  meet  thy 
friends  ?  Is  it  well,  thinkest  thou,  dear  lord,  to 
stay  always  here  with  me?  Albrecht  comes  at 
times,  it  is  true,  but  methinks  not  many  come. 
Sometimes  the  Jew,  Lazarus  ;  but,  oh!  Rembrandt, 
my  own,  none  will  come  to  see  thee  unless  thou 
goest  to  see  them." 

255 


REMBRANDT 

"  Thoae  are  indeed  strange  words  from  a  wife, 
and  not  so  very  long  wedded — chiding  her  hus 
band  for  too  much  devotion  to  his  home.  Saskia  ! 
my  beloved,  what  wouldst  thou  have  done  had  I 
been  a  roysterer  in  the  tavern,  like  the  others?  It 
would  have  broken  that  tender  heart  of  thine. 
Thinkest  thou  indeed  they  care  not  for  me,  and 
come  not  so  often  hither?  I  had  not  noted  it. 
Well,  well,  be  it  as  thou  wilt.  I  will  seek  out 
Ephraim  Cock  and  Jan  Six,  and  try  to  see  them 
more  often.  It  is  not  that  I  do  not  admire  and 
like  these  men,  and  others  too  ;  but  my  home,  my 
wife,  who  would  leave  them  ?  It  is  always  a  strug 
gle." 

"  Thy  words  ring  sweetly  in  mine  ears,  but  1 
will  not  recall  what  I  have  said.  Go  among  them. 
That  must  thou  do,  else  soon  will  they  either  for 
get  or  hate  thee  ;  and  then  trouble  will  come  into 
thy  life,  and  thy  Saskia  will  be  sad." 

"  Trouble  not  thyself,  sweet  wife.  It  shall  be 
as  thou  sayest.  In  all  things  would  I  please  thee, 
if  I  could  ;  and  then  too,  dear  Saskia,  I  know  thou 
art  wise,  far  wiser  than  I.  Doubtless  thy  counsel 
is  good.  I  wonder  I  thought  not  before  about 
this  matter.  In  very  truth,  I  believe  I  think  of 
little  but  painting  and  thee." 


256 


CHAPTER    XXXI 

Hildegarde  Seems  Hard-Hearted 

ONE  morning-  Albrecht  came  to  Rembrandt's 
home  almost  in  despair.  He  had  not  seen 
Hildegarde,  and  he  was  afraid  Saskia  had  forgot 
ten  her  promise.  The  courteous  German  had  long 
forborne  to  speak  of  his  own  matters.  He  did  not 
wish  to  intrude  upon  the  happiness  of  this  newly 
wedded  pair;  but  he  felt  sad,  and  at  last  he  came 
to  tell  of  his  feelings  and  find  sympathy.  Saskia 
had  not  forgotten,  but  her  mission  to  the  wayward 
maiden  had  not  succeeded  as  she  had  hoped.  Hil 
degarde  was  not  an  easy  person  to  approach,  and, 
situated  as  she  was  in  a  strange  land,  where  she 
had  already  met  with  many  adventures,  some  of 
them  not  at  all  pleasant,  and  some  quite  danger 
ous,  it  was  natural  that  she  should  be  suspicious 
of  any  stranger. 

When  Saskia  came  to  see  her,  Hildegarde  knew 
nothing  of  her  visitor.  She  had  never  even  heard 
her  name.  Saskia  was  not  aware  of  this.  She 
thought  the  wife  of  Rembrandt  would  be  known 
to  everybody,  and  surely  would  meet  with  cordial 
reception  anywhere. 

Old  Marjorie  showed  Saskia  to  the  little  sitting- 
room,  and  presently  Hildegarde  entered.  She 
was  superb  in  her  beauty.  Saskia  caught  her 

257 


REMBRANDT 

breath  as  she  looked  at  her.  There  was  no  face 
in  Holland  like  that ;  nor  was  there  such  a  bearing 
—so  strong,  so  proud. 

"  I  am  pleased  to  see  you,  my  frow  Rembrandt, 
is  it  not?  I  think  that  is  the  name  my  maid  gave 
me." 

"  Why,  surely  that  is  my  name,"  said  the  bewil 
dered  Saskia.  "  Knew  you  not  that  name  before." 

"  Oh  !  yes,  I  think  I  have  heard  the  name.  Your 
husband  is  a  painter,  if  I  mistake  not." 

"  You  are  jesting  with  me.  There  is  no  one  of 
your  intelligence  who  does  not  know  the  name 
of  Rembrandt." 

"  I  said  that  I  knew  it.  May  I  ask  to  what  I 
am  indebted  for  the  pleasure  of  your  visit?" 

"  I  came  to  ask  whether  you  would  come  to  our 
home  and  meet  my  husband.  I  have  heard  of  you 
from  a  young  German,  a  dear  friend  of  ours — 
Albert  von  Stoltzing — a  fellow-countryman  of 
yours  ;  and  he  said  you  were  a  stranger  here  and 
that  you  had  been  troubled,  and  I  thought  per 
haps  I  might  help  you." 

"  I  see  how  it  is.  This  German — Albrecht  von 
Stoltzing,  I  think  you  called  him — is  taking  much 
too  great  a  part  in  other  people's  affairs.  I  know 
not  the  man.  I  never  saw  him  until  a  very  little 
while  ago,  and  I  am  not  at  all  sure  that  I  ever  care 
to  see  him  again." 

"  But  I  did  not  ask  you  to  see  him,"  said  Saskia. 
"Why  thought  you  of  that?  He  told  me  you 
were  a  stranger  and  in  trouble,  and  I  thought  you 
might  like  to  come  to  our  home;  and  if  we  can 
help  you,  we  will." 

258 


HILDEGARDE   SEEMS   HARD-HEARTED 

"  I  thank  you  most  heartily.  You  are  indeed  a 
courteous  lady — quite  different  from  most  of  the 
Holland  dames  whom  I  have  met.  Just  now, 
however,  I  must  decline  your  most  kind  invita 
tion  ;  for  I  am  caring1  for  my  cousin,  who  is  very 
ill,  and  I  cannot  leave  him.  Besides  that,  I  know 
perfectly  well  that  the  German  you  speak  of  asked 
you  to  come  here.  He  has  been  following  me  too 
long,  and  I  will  have  none  of  him.  He  is  unman 
nerly.  I  understand  not  his  actions,  nor  would  I 
understand  them.  Let  him  go  back  to  his  own 
land,  and  that  will  I  do  as  soon  as  my  cousin  is 
well.  I  hate  this  Holland." 

Hildegarde  gave  a  little  defiant  toss  of  the  head, 
and  the  beautiful  brown  curls  fell  farther  down 
upon  the  low  white  brow.  Saskia  thought  she 
had  never  seen  so  beautiful  a  woman.  She  thought, 
too,  that  this  proud  princess  was  quite  unap 
proachable  ;  therefore  she  pitied  Albrecht,  and  all 
the  more  because  she  wondered  not  at  his  love, 
but  would  rather  have  been  amazed  if  he  had  not 
loved. 

Saskia  made  no  progress  whatever.  Hilde 
garde  was  not  to  be  won  over.  She  gave  thanks 
for  the  courtesy  of  the  visit,  but  she  made  no 
promise  to  return  it;  and  at  the  end  of  their  talk 
there  was  not  a  single  word  of  comfort  that  Rem 
brandt's  wife  could  bring  to  his  friend.  It  was 
for  that  reason  that  she  had  kept  silence  so  long, 
and  had  not  even  told  Albrecht  that  she  had  seen 
Hildegarde. 

This  was  the  situation  when  at  last  the  patient 
Albrecht  could  wait  no  longer,  and  came  to  ask 

259 


REMBRANDT 

of  Saskia  what  she  had  done  about  Hiiaegarde. 
It  was  a  sad  tale — hard  for  Saskia  to  tell,  much 
harder  for  Albrecht  to  hear.  Rembrandt  mean 
while  was  etching  most  vigorously,  and  heard  not 
a  word  of  their  talk. 

"  It  is  hopeless,  then,  you  think,  dear  lady  Sas 
kia,"  said  Albrecht.  "  She  cares  not  for  me  at  all." 

44  Friend  Albrecht,  I  think  you  are  in  some  ways 
the  stupidest  person  I  know.  What  is  hopeless  ? 
Care  for  you  ?  Why  should  she  care  for  you  ? 
Think  you  I  talked  with  her  about  you  ?  Why, 
you  never  pleaded  your  own  cause !  She  knows 
not  that  you  love  her.  Surely  you  never  told  her 
so.  She  is  simply  annoyed  and  troubled  because 
you  follow  her  around  in  such  a  queer  way.  My 
dear  friend,  I  must  leave  this  matter  to  you.  You 
yourself  must  win  or  lose  at  this  game.  Since  I 
have  seen  this  ladv,  whose  beauty  is  a  marvel,  and 
whose  temper  is  just  as  marvellous,  I  decline  to 
interfere.  You  must  fight  your  own  battle,  Herr 
Albrecht.  Saskia  loves  peace,  and  greatly  fears 
she  might  get  into  trouble  if  she  tried  to  influence 
this  fiery  beauty  of  yours." 

44  Oh  !  dear !  oh  !  dear  !  I  fear  it  is  true.  Yes, 
fiery  perhaps,  daring  certainly ;  but,  oh  !  how 
beautiful !  There  is  tenderness  there.  I  know  it. 
I  fear  her  not.  I  love  her,  and  I  will  win  her." 

"Indeed,  I  hope  so,  friend  Albrecht;  but  you 
must  do  it  yourself." 

44  What  are  you  two  talking  about  so  long  ?  " 
said  Rembrandt.  "  Why,  I  have  made  a  whole 
etching,  and  still  your  tongues  are  clattering  like 
millstones.  Absorb  not  my  wife  thus,  Albrecht, 

260 


HILDEGARDE   SEEMS    HARD-HEARTED 

or  I  shall  become  jealous;  and  I  am  terrible  when 
I  am  angry." 

"  Nay,  nay,  enough  of  anger  for  one  day. 
Hildegarde  was  angry.  I  pray  thee,  my  friend, 
be  not  thoy  angry,  lest  I  be  too  much  cast  down." 

"Albrecht,  well  I  know  you  will  not  be  too 
much  cast  down.  I  know  your  strength  better 
than  you  know  it  yourself ;  but  I  must  admit  you 
have  a  task  before  you  that  would  tax  any  man's 
energies.  This  German  lady  is,  indeed,  a  very 
rare  person.  I  never  shall  forget  how  her  beauty 
attracted  me,  even  when  she  was  dressed  as  a 
man;  but  she  eluded  me,  and  would  not  have 
Rembrandt  paint  her  portrait.  In  very  truth,  she 
is  a  remarkable  person.  What  a  pity  I  did  not 
get  that  portrait  of  her!  I  believe  it  might  have 
been  one  of  my  best  works.  Never  mind,  I'll  have 
it  yet;  and  if  I  catch  this  shy  bird  of  yours,  and 
keep  her  for  a  little  while  in  the  meshes  of  art's 
net,  you  may  be  sure,  friend  Albrecht,  I  shall  use 
the  opportunity  to  do  the  best  I  can  for  my  friend. 
Don't  lose  heart.  You  have  courage  and  friends. 
With  these,  a  man  can  achieve  anything,  even  the 
conquest  of  a  wayward  lady  ;  and  that.  I  frankly 
confess,  is  about  as  difficult  a  task  as  a  man  could 
undertake." 

Albrecht  heaved  a  deep  sigh.  His  feelings  were 
overwrought.  He  had  waited  so  long  and  been 
so  patient,  and  now  found  nothing  to  reward  him 
— nothing  but  a  hope  held  out  to  him  by  those  he 
loved,  but  based  on  nothing  very  tangible. 

"  Rembrandt,  Saskia,  how  can  I  thank  you  for 
what  you  have  done  for  me,  and  for  the  loving 

261 


REMBRANDT 

words  you  have  spoken?  My  life  is  rich  in  the 
dear  friendship  you  give  me,  even  if  I  fail  in  win 
ning  what  I  would  prize  above  all  else.  But  now 
t  must  go.  I  fear  I  am  a  dull  companion  to 
night.  I  am  simply  adding  my  burdens  to  yours. 
Forgive  me.  I  will  try  to  pluck  up  heart  again  ; 
and  when  I  come  to  you  the  next  time  you  shall 
find  Albrecht  cheerful  at  least,  no  matter  what 
happens." 

He  took  his  leave.  Rembrandt  and  Saskia  sat 
down  before  the  fire  in  the  dining-room  and  talked 
together,  as  was  their  wont  at  this  hour  of  the 
evening. 

"What  thinkest  thou,  Saskia  mine?  Will  the 
German  succeed  ? " 

"  Indeed,  my  lord,  I  know  not.  This  lady  is 
perilous.  I  cannot  judge  character  as  thou  dost. 
Surely  thou  couldst  tell  all  about  her  in  one 
glance  of  those  great  eyes  of  thine.  Why  not  see 
her,  dear  master?" 

"  Yes,  yes,  I  will  do  that.  I  must  paint  her. 
Her  beauty  is  extraordinary.  Never  did  I  see 
such  loveliness,  save  thine,  my  own  beloved." 

"  Nay,  that  is  thy  love.  Well  thou  knowest  I 
have  not  a  tithe  of  the  beauty  of  this  German 
princess,  for  princess  I  know  she  is.  Ne'er  did  I 
meet  such  majesty  of  bearing,  such  haughtiness; 
and  yet,  my  own,  there  was  something  there  that 
told  of  tenderness.  Saskia  loves,  therefore  Saskia 
can  sympathize  with  love.  I  think  not  this  Hil- 
degarde  loves  now, but  I  am  sure  she  can  love;  and 
once  she  yields  to  the  passion  that  masters  us  all, 
it  will  be  an  opening  of  floodgates,  and  the  man 

262 


HILDEGARDE   SEEMS    HARD-HEARTED 

who  wins  her  will  be  blessed  beyond  his  utmost 
thought.  But  what  has  come  over  me?  Not  often 
do  I  talk  like  this.  I  was  interested  in  the  maiden. 
I  was  touched  by  Albrecht's  distress.  Forgive 
me  for  such  long  speech." 

"  Forgive  thee,  dearest?  Well  knowest  thou  I 
would  listen  forever  to  thy  sweet  voice." 

"  But,  Rembrandt,  thou  knowest  I  can  help  no 
more  now.  I  must  bide  at  home  now  until  the 
little  one  comes." 

"  My  own,  that  is  true.  Thou  shouldst  not 
have  gone  there  at  all.  I  fear  thou  art  overtired. 
Haste  thee  now  to  bed." 

And  so  the  evening  ended,  as  many  another  be 
fore,  with  sweet  converse  between  these  married 
lovers.  Nevertheless,  Rembrandt  lingered  for 
awhile  before  the  fire,  buried  in  thought.  He 
had  been  touched  by  Saskia's  words  as  to  the  need 
of  more  outgoing  from  this  home  already  grown 
so  dear.  Yes,  that  would  be  better;  and  surely 
he  must  do  what  Saskia  said.  Already  he  knew 
well  there  was  a  wisdom  in  his  wife  deeper  than 
his  own.  He  trusted  her.  He  would  follow  her 
suggestions,  for  he  knew  they  were  good  ;  yet, 
yet  how  could  he  ?  Art  would  soon  possess  him 
again  utterly,  and  them  he  would  forget.  Surely 
there  was  no  need  of  going  to  the  tavern.  Oh, 
no!  not  that!  He  hated  it;  carousing  he  ab 
horred.  If  that  were  necessary  to  make  him  pop 
ular,  he  would  be  a  hermit  always. 

"  Saskia,"  he  thought,  "  thou  wouldst  not  have 
thine  husband  a  low  roysterer,  like  these  others 
about  us.  Not  that !  surely  not  that !  but  I  must 


REMBRANDT 

seek  fellowship  with  some  of  the  great  ones — men 
like  Jan  Six  and  Ephraim  Cock — and  learn  to  know 
them  as  friends,  if  they  will  be  friendly  to  me. 
Saskia  is  in  the  right.  She  always  is.  She  is  an 
angel ;  and  by  and  by  there  will  be  the  voices  of 
children  here,  and  1  would  not  have  the  home 
friendless.  No,  it  must  be  a  sunny  home.  The 
spirit  of  art  must  not  be  a  baleful  one.  Oh  !  how 
can  I  help  an  evil  influence  from  it  ?  Sometimes 
I  think  it  is  a  curse  and  not  a  blessing,  and  yet 
how  I  love  it !  Oh,  how  I  love  it ! " 


264 


CHAPTER  XXXII 

The  Palma   Vecchio 

placidly  passed  the  time  for  months, 
-  and  even  years.  Rembrandt  carried  out, 
in  part,  the  suggestion  of  Saskia.  He  did  come 
to  know  Jan  Six  well,  and  Ephraim  Cock  became 
his  friend  ;  but  it  was  at  the  cost  of  great  effort. 
Ever  more  and  more  did  the  art  and  the  home  ab 
sorb  him.  The  first  child  came,  and  there  was 
great  joy.  It  was  a  daughter,  and  she  was  christ 
ened  Cornelia.  Alas !  the  joy  was  short-lived, 
for  in  a  few  weeks  the  little  one  died  and  was 
buried  at  the  Zuyder  Kerk.  The  funeral  soon 
followed  the  christening,  and  the  merry  Saskia 
was  much  broken  down,  both  in  body  and  mind. 
Nevertheless,  she  kept  on  fulfilling,  in  the  loveli 
est  spirit,  all  her  duties  as  a  wife.  The  continual 
posing  as  a  model  was  a  great  strain  upon  her. 
Rembrandt  should  have  seen  this,  but  where  art 
was  concerned  he  could  see  nothing,  think  of 
nothing  else,  and  he  continued  to  etch  and  paint 
her  because  of  her  loveliness  ;  and  Saskia,  ever 
true  in  her  devotion  to  him  and  to  his  art,  was  al 
ways  a  willing  and  cheerful  minister  to  her  hus 
band's  need,  at  whatever  cost  to  herself.  Indeed, 
she  thought  not  of  the  cost.  To  help  him  was 
enough.  That  was  her  joy  and  her  glory,  even  to 

265 


the  last  day  of  her  brief  life.  It  was  largely  due 
to  her  ministrations  of  helpfulness  that  Rembrandt 
was  prosperous  at  this  time.  One  day  he  had  re 
ceived  the  proceeds  of  a  number  of  paintings,  and, 
after  attending  to  the  settlement  of  what  was  due 
for  the  expenses  of  the  home,  there  was  a  consid 
erable  balance  left.  With  this  he  went  at  once  to 
Lazarus,  meaning  to  pay  this  sum  on  his  account 
with  the  Jew. 

Now,  Lazarus  had  used  the  money  he  got  of 
Isaac,  and  some  more  besides  of  his  own,  and  pur 
chased  a  fine  picture  by  Palma  Vecchio — a  scene 
from  the  Bible.  Of  course,  he  meant  to  make  Rem 
brandt  buy  this  great  work,  and  pay  him  double 
what  the  cost  of  it  had  been.  Rembrandt  knew 
little  about  the  market  value  of  pictures  or  prints. 
Indeed,  he  was  so  chivalrous  in  his  devotion  to 
art  that  sometimes  at  an  auction  he  would  bid  for 
some  master-work  two  or  three  times  what  hcid 
been  before  offered,  saying  that  it  was  a  reproach 
upon  the  art  lovers  of  his  land  that  great  works 
should  be  bought  in  a  niggardly  way.  A  man  in 
such  a  mood  was  an  easy  victim  for  Lazarus,  and 
this  mood  was  habitual  with  the  painter.  The 
Jew  only  needed  to  take  his  time,  and  most  often 
he  had  not  long  to  wait — never,  if  he  had  a  really 
good  thing  to  offer. 

Now,  Rembrandt  had  come  this  day  with  (.he 
thought  of  making  quite  a  large  payment  to  Laz 
arus,  and  the  Jew  suspected  this.  He  had  kept 
close  watch  on  his  victim  ;  and  of  late  he  had  really 
become  alarmed,  fearing  that  Rembrandt  would 
make  too  much,  and  free  himself  entirely  from  his 

266 


THE    PALMA   VECCHIO 

clutches.  Isaac  was  becoming  frightfully  anxious 
about  it.  The  long  waiting  was  too  much  for  the 
miser,  longing  to  finger  the  gold,  where  the  more 
patient  Jew,  the  Jacob  of  his  tribe,  knew  how  to 
wait.  It  was  fortunate  for  Lazarus  that  at  this 
very  moment  he  had  so  tempting  a  bait  to  offer. 
The  fish  rose  eagerly  to  the  hook.  The  Palma 
Vecchio  quite  overcame  Rembrandt. 

"  Now,  my  friend,  what  do  you  think  of  that 
work?  Is  that  not  a  great  painting?" 

"True,  Lazarus,  quite  true.  Great,  you  said! 
Wonderful,  I  should  say.  Where  got  the  man  his 
art,  I  wonder.  It  is  full  of  Italy's  sunlight.  Yes, 
Titian  is  the  greatest  colorist,  but  this  man  resem 
bles  him.  How  can  we,  who  live  under  Holland's 
sombre  skies,  hope  to  equal  those  mellow  glories 
— how,  indeed  ?  There  is  no  way,  except,  perhaps, 
to  keep  their  works  by  our  side  and  seek  inspira 
tion  from  them  when  we  paint.  Ah !  yes,  that  is  it! 
The  Rubens  has  been  an  inspiration  to  me.  Would 
that  I  owned  this, and  many  like  it — such  color!  Oh, 
the  glow !  the  glory !  and  the  drawing  is  good,  too." 

"  Why,  good  friend,  that  had  I  felt.  I  said  to 
myself  when  I  saw  that  picture  :  That  is  for  Rem 
brandt.  There  is  no  other  man  here  that  knows 
the  worth  of  that  painting." 

"  Lazarus,  I  came  not  hither  to  buy  pictures.  I 
came  to  pay  you  a  part  of  the  debt  I  owe  you. 
Well  I  know  it  is  a  large  debt,  Lazarus  ;  bring  me 
the  account  at  once,  and  we  will  see  how  it  stands 
at  this  time.  Much  I  fear  I  am  deeply  your  debtor, 
but  I  know  not  the  sum.  I  will  pay  it,  whatever 
it  is." 

267 


REMBRANDT 

"  You  want  the  account,  you  say?  Why,  friend 
Rembrandt,  my  man  who  keeps  the  books  is  away- 
just  now,  and  you  know  well  that  it  takes  time  to 
make  up  that  statement.  When  he  comes  back 
he  shall  do  that,  and  I  will  send  it  to  you.  But 
Rembrandt,  my  friend,  why  think  of  that?  The 
money  is  nothing  to  you.  More  have  you  made 
than  you  can  use,  and  you  will  be  very  rich  ;  but 
never,  oh,  never  again,  will  you  see  one  Palma 
Vecchio  like  that  one." 

"  Lazarus,  I  believe  you  are  right.  I  never  did 
see  the  equal  of  it.  Three  thousand  florins,  did 
you  say  ?  It  is  not  half  the  worth  of  it.  Give  it 
to  me.  Here  is  the  money.  Now  mind  you,  Laza 
rus,  this  goes  not  into  the  account.  Give  me  a  re 
ceipt  in  full.  There  is  the  sum  well  told — nay, 
methinks  there  is  more.  Oh  !  yes!  there  are  five 
hundred  florins  more.  Credit  me  that  on  the  ac 
count,  Lazarus,  and  give  me  the  picture  quickly. 
Fain  would  I  rejoice  fair  Saskia's  eyes  with  the 
sight  of  so  rare  a  treasure." 

Thus  was  concluded  the  matter  between  them. 
The  Jew  forthwith  put  down  the  five  hundred 
florins  to  account  of  commissions  on  the  purchase 
of  the  picture,  and  Rembrandt's  indebtedness  was 
not  one  whit  lessened.  He  never  looked  at  his 
accounts  with  Lazarus.  He  was  no  bookkeeper, 
and  he  thought  the  Jew  could  keep  his  accounts 
well  enough.  It  was  not  necessary  for  him  to 
trouble  himself  about  such  matters.  He  was 
painting  pictures  and  making  great  etchings.  Of 
course,  Lazarus  was  a  man  who  understood 
accounts  and  such  matters.  His  function  was 

268 


THE    PALMA    VECCHIO 

to  make  money,  but  Lazarus  could  not  paint 
pictures.  Let  Lazarus  have  his  money.  He  was 
entitled  to  it  since  he  earned  it,  and  Rembrandt's 
home  was  daily  growing  more  beautiful  because 
of  the  Jew's  work.  Such  works  of  art !  Wonder 
ful!  How  could  a  great  artist  live  except  amid 
such  surroundings.  Why  !  they  were  needed 
as  an  inspiration  to  his  own  work.  They  were 
needed  to  make  all  beautiful  about  Saskia,  the 
loved  one.  Surely  she  ought  to  have  the  fairest 
home  in  all  the  world.  Yes  !  yes  !  it  was  to  be 
so. 

The  painter  now  was  revelling  in  the  riches  of 
his  art.  His  work  seemed  a  mine  of  wealth. 

"  I  am  thankful,  indeed,"  thought  Rembrandt, 
as  he  left  the  Jew  that  afternoon  and  brought  the 
magnificent  Palma  Vecchio  to  his  home  ;  "  I  am 
thankful,  because  my  brush  and  the  help  of  this 
noble  Jew  have  enabled  me  to  enrich  the  home  of 
my  love." 

When  Rembrandt  came  to  his  house,  bringing 
with  him  the  picture,  he  met  Saskia  at  the  door. 
She  had  been  waiting  for  him,  for  he  had  told  her 
he  meant  to  see  Lazarus  and  make  him  a  large 
payment  on  his  account. 

"  Oh  !  Rembrandt,"  said  Saskia.  "  You  have 
paid  him,  have  you  not?  I  am  so  happy.  Bring 
me  the  receipt.  We  will  put  it  here  in  the 
beautiful  carved  desk,  along  with  your  other  pa 
pers." 

"  Oh,  yes!  dear  Saskia,  I  have  paid  him  in  part, 
and  he  is  making  a  statement  of  our  accounts.  In 
a  few  days  he  will  send  it  to  me  ;  but  Saskia,  my 

269 


REMBRANDT 

own,  look  at  this  !  Sawest  thou  ever  so  fine  a 
tone,  such  a  mellow  golden  glory?  It  is  a  Palma 
Vecchio,  dearest,  one  of  his  greatest  works.  It  is 
a  dream,  a  marvel!  Now,  let  us  see,  where  shall 
we  hang  this  masterpiece?  In  the  dining-room, 
I  think." 

"  Rembrandt,  my  own,  why  didst  thou  do  this  ? 
Hast  thou,  indeed,  bought  of  the  Jew  another 
picture?  Surely  there  were  enough  here  be 
fore." 

"  Saskia,  I  pray  thee,  speak  not  thus.  Look 
upon  the  picture  and  delight  in  it.  There  will  be 
many  more  to  adorn  the  walls  of  this  home,  but 
few  finer  than  this.  I  think  it  is  a  rare  work — in 
deed,  most  notable,  almost  unmatched  in  the  qual 
ity  of  its  tone.  I  am  proud  that  my  Saskia  has 
so  beautiful  a  picture  to  grace  the  room  where 
the  great  men  of  Amsterdam  will  come  to  greet 
her  and  enjoy  her  gracious  hospitality." 

"  Yes,  I  believe  that ;  but,  my  own  best  beloved, 
I  want  it  not.  The  house  is  lovely  enough  as  it  is, 
and  with  thee  in  it  no  woman  could  ask  more.  Ah ! 
who  is  that,  I  wonder?" 

At  that  moment  it  happened  that  Jan  Six  had 
come  to  see  again  his  artist  friend.  It  was  the 
loud  sound  of  the  brass  knocker  on  the  door  that 
Saskia  heard.  Presently  Jan  Six  entered  and 
greeted  the  painter  and  his  wife  with  the  high 
bred  courtesy  that  marked  him  as  one  of  the 
highest  gentlemen  in  Holland.  He  was  now  a 
burgomaster,  and,  indeed,  the  chief  among  them. 
He  was  the  ruler  of  Amsterdam,  and  well  did  he 
•deserve  such  distinction.  He  was  great  in  quiet- 


THE   PALMA   VECCHIO 

ness,  and  quiet  in  greatness.  In  many  ways  he 
resembled  William  the  Silent.  Later,  in  his  por 
trait  of  him,  Rembrandt  told  the  story  of  his  life, 
as  only  Rembrandt  could  tell  it. 

He  came  toward  the  painter  with  his  usual  dig 
nity  of  manner,  but  with  a  kindliness  quite  differ 
ent  from  the  proud  spirit  of  Dr.  Tulp.  This  man 
was  a  loving  man.  If  he  loved  once,  he  always 
loved  ;  and  even  now,  though  he  had  not  known 
him  very  long,  he  had  begun  to  love  Rembrandt, 
and  he  never  ceased  to  love  him. 

"  I  greet  you  with  joy,  friend  Rembrandt,  if  I 
may  call  you  friend.  I  think  you  have  already 
allowed  me  that  title.  I  assure  you,  I  am  proud  of 
it.  Your  works  are  glorifying  this  town  of  ours. 
Who  would  have  thought  that  this  flat  Holland, 
with  naught  of  outward  beauty,  could  have  pro 
duced  such  an  artist  ?  " 

"  My  friend — may  I  say,  my  dear  friend  ? — why 
should  not  Holland  produce  great  artists?  I  am 
not  worthy  of  any  kind  word  that  would  imply 
greatness,  but  this  is  a  land  of  heroes.  Look  at 
the  great  William  ;  look  at  Heemskerk.  Think  of 
Leyden  and  Alkmaar.  Think  of  Gibraltar.  Look 
to  the  Arctic  Seas;  look  to  the  Indies.  Surely, 
Holland  is  great;  why  not  great  painters  then? 
The  expanse  of  the  sky  and  the  never-tiring  wind 
mills  below  it  are  inspiration  enough." 

"  Rembrandt,"  said  Saskia,  "  I  pray  thee,  say 
not  more;  for  I  fear  that  when  thine  art  comes  to 
thy  mind,  it  might  be  there  would  not  be  so  great 
an  interest  in  it  to  another  as  there  is  to  thee. 
Come  hither,  Mynheer  Six,  to  the  dining-room, 

271 


REMBRANDT 

and  let  us  have  some  refreshment  and  look  upon 
these  pictures  which  my  husband  has  put  upon 
these  walls.  He  loves  the  art  of  others  better 
than  his  own." 

"  Indeed,  my  frow  Saskia,  I  believe  that  his  mod 
esty  almost  equals  his  greatness.  It  has  seemed 
to  me  that  he  thinks  of  his  art  as  an  unattainable 
thing — always  there  is  something  beyond." 

"  Indeed,  Mynheer  Six,  that  is  true,"  said  Saskia. 

"  My  dear  wife,  never  did  I  hear  thee  speak 
thus.  What  has  come  over  thee  ?  I  beg  you  to 
pardon  her,  Herr  Six.  You  know  our  wives  are 
partial." 

"  But,  my  friend,  said  I  not  the  same  thing  my 
self?  Rembrandt,  will  you  paint  a  portrait  of  me  ? 
There  is  none  other  in  this  land  of  ours  of  whom 
I  would  ask  that." 

"  I  am  honored,  indeed,  Mynheer  Six.  Gladly 
would  I  leave  to  Amsterdam  something  that 
would  remind  our  burghers  of  their  greatest  man 
—their  leader." 

"  Who  talks  now  of  compliments  and  fine  court 
ly  words?  I  have  often  wondered,  Rembrandt, 
where  you  learned  that  trick  of  speech — always 
the  word  in  touch  with  the  thought  of  the  mo 
ment.  Yet  they  say  you  were  a  miller's  son." 

"  Oh,  yes  !  "  said  Saskia.  "  He  always  told  me 
that,  therefore  I  know  it  is  true  ;  but,  oh  !  if  you 
had  heard  how  he  spoke  to  me  when  first  we  met 
you  would  not  have  dreamed  that  ever  had  he 
anything  to  do  with  mills  or  millers." 

"  Saskia,  I  pray  thee,  shame  me  not.  I  said  but 
the  truth,  and  that  is  what  I  have  ever  said  to 

272 


THE   PALMA   VECCHIO 

thee.  Give  me  the  benefit  of  sincerity.  At  least, 
I  hope  I  am  no  time-server." 

"  Rembrandt,"  said  Mynheer  Six,  "  this  conver 
sation  seems  to  be  growing  rather  serious.  There 
is  no  need  for  any  reproaches.  I  ask  you,  as  a 
great  painter,  to  paint  my  portrait ;  you  say  you 
are  honored  to  paint  the  portrait  of  one  whom 
you  call  a  great  man.  Is  it  not  true,  then,  that 
compliments  are  even?  What  use  in  them,  any 
way  ?  Let  the  work  be  done,  and  both  of  us  will 
be  contented." 

"  Yes,  truly,"  said  Saskia,  "  that  is  his  spirit.  It 
is  the  work  that  he  cares  for;  and  yet,  Mynheer 
Six,  it  is  a  pleasure  to  know  that  when  he  says  a 
pleasant  thing  he  means  it." 

"  Saskia,  if  thou  sayest  more,  I  will  not  paint  at 
all — no,  I  meant  not  that;  for  I  must  paint  Myn 
heer  Six,  and  now  I  have  time.  We  can  begin  at 
once.  Will  you  come  to  the  studio,  Mynheer 
Burgomaster  ?" 

"  Rembrandt,  I  had  not  thought  you  would  be 
gin  the  picture  to-day  ;  but,  if  you  will,  I  am  at 
your  service." 

"  I  will  begin  it  at  once.     Jan,  oh,  Jan  !  " 

The  little  color-grinder  was  always  within  call. 
He  appeared  at  once.  "  Have  you  colors  ground 
and  ready  for  a  portrait,  Jan  ?  " 

"  Yes,  master,  I  think  so,  master ;  I  have  been 
grinding  all  day,  master.  Yes,  I  think  so,  mas 
ter;  I  hope  they 're  good,  master.  I  have  done  my 
best,  master." 

"  Bring  them  hither  to  the  studio.  Saskia,  my 
own,  rest  thee  awhile.  I  would  begin  the  portrait 

273 


REMBRANDT 

of  our  noble  burgomaster.     Never  have  I  been  so 
honored." 

With  graceful  dignity  Saskia  arose.  She  made 
her  farewell  greetings  to  Mynheer  Six  with  as 
courtly  a  manner  as  graced  her  father  when  he 
met  Queen  Elizabeth  or  William  the  Silent. 


274 


CHAPTER  XXXIII 

The  Night-Watch  is  Ordered 

EMBRANDT,"   said    Mynheer   Six.     "  In- 

XV  deed,  you  are  a  man  upon  whom  smile  all 
the  gods.  At  the  summit  of  your  art,  blessed  with 
such  a  wife,  living  in  so  beautiful  a  home!  Think 
you  not  sometimes,  my  friend,  that  you  have  al 
most  too  much?" 

"  Nay,  Mynheer  Six,  I  know  well  I  am  blessed 
far  more  than  I  deserve,  but  there  is  upon  me  an 
incessant  unrest.  I  cannot  do  what  I  would.  My 
art  baffles  me,  yet  always  beckons  me  on.  I  ques 
tion  often  whether  success  is  possible,  but  there 
is  naught  to  do  but  try  and  keep  on  trying. 
Come  hither,  then.  Let  me  see  the  pose.  Oh ! 
did  you  not  leave  your  hat  without?  Methinks  I 
would  have  that  hat  in  my  portrait.  It  is  char 
acteristic  in  our  Amsterdam  leaders.  Jan,  fetch 
the  burgomaster's  hat.  It  must  be  lying  yonder 
by  the  door." 

"  Yes,  master,  I  will  fetch  it,  master.  It  is  there. 
I  saw  him  lay  it  down." 

In  a  few  minutes  Rembrandt  was  absolutely  si 
lent,  absorbed  in  an  intensity  of  thought.  The 
brush-work  came  later;  first  was  the  comprehen 
sion  of  the  subject.  He  seemed  to  read  the  mind, 
and  make  the  character  live  through  form  and 

275 


REMBRANDT 

color.  Not  one  touch  upon  the  canvas  did  he 
make  until  he  seemed  to  see  clearly  the  character 
of  the  man  who  was  sitting  before  him.  He  had 
known  Jan  Six  before.  He  knew  of  his  history. 
He  knew  the  calm,  placid  tenderness  of  the  man, 
and  the  iron  will  that  underlay  and  impelled  the 
forces  of  his  nature.  He  was  benignant.  His 
face  had  in  it  a  blessing  ;  but  woe  to  him  who 
crossed  the  path  of  Jan  Six  when  he  was  aim 
ing  at  some  good  thing  for  his  town  and  his 
country.  There  was  no  more  irresistible  man 
when  aroused  to  a  struggle  for  the  right.  There 
is  such  strength  combined  with  tenderness.  The 
very  sweetness  flashed  forth  from  the  eye  with 
vivid  power  even  in  the  moment  of  battle  for 
a  great  cause.  Such  a  man  was  Mynheer  Six. 
Rembrandt  thought:  "  I  have  seen  one  like  him  ; 
I  verily  believe  my  own  dear  Albrecht  would  fight 
like  a  hero,  though  he  calls  himself  a  dreamer." 

At  that  moment  there  was  a  rude  interruption. 
The  brass  knocker  was  banged  violently — so  vio 
lently  that  poor  Jan  went  nearly  out  of  his  wits. 

"Oh!  oh!  oh!  there  must  be  a  fire.  Oh, 
God!  what  is  that?"  He  hardly  dared  to  go  to 
the  door.  But,  bang!  bang!  bang!  went  the 
knocker,  and  the  trembling  boy  had  to  open  the 
door  at  last,  though  so  frightened  that  his  knees 
shook  under  him  and  he  could  hardly  stand  up 


right* 


"  What,  ho  !  there  within,  why  not  open  the 
door?  Are  you  all  laggards  here  in  Holland?  I 
think  so  ?  "  The  door  was  opened  by  the  trem 
bling  Jan.  "  Why,  you  little  varlet,  much  I  fear  I 

270 


THE    NIGHT-WATCH    IS    ORDERED 

frightened  you.  I  want  to  see  your  master. 
Where  is  Rembrandt?  I  have  something  to  say 
to  him  at  once  ;  understand,  at  once.  Time  is 
passing.  I  said  at  once,  did  you  hear  ?  " 

"Hear?  did  I  do  anything  but  hear?  Oh! 
what  a  noise!  Was  the  knocker  broken?  Let  me 
look." 

"  You  young  rascal,  go  straight  to  your  master, 
and  tell  him  I  must  see  him  instantly." 

"  Oh,  yes,  I  will  go.    The  knocker  is  not  broken." 

"  Curses  on  your  knocker;  what  mean  you,  boy? 
Tell  him  I  want  to  see  him." 

"  Yes,  yes,  great  man,  I  will  tell  him.  Oh,  the 
knocker  !  The  great  man  wants  to  see  him." 

"  You  little  idiot !  Well,  I  don't  know,  perhaps 
I  am  the  idiot  after  all.  Did  I  tell  you  my  name? 
I  believe  I  did  not." 

"  Your  name,  master,  soldier,  no,  I  know  it  not. 
I  only  heard  the  knocker." 

"Ha!  ha!  ha!  You  are  right  I  I  said  naught. 
I  was  in  haste.  Tell  your  master  Ephraim  Cock 
would  speak  with  him  at  once." 

"  But,  my  lord,  my  great  one,  I  cannot  speak  to 
him  now." 

"  Why  not,  you  little  scoundrel?  " 

"  He  is  painting,  sir ;  and  when  he  paints,  sir  ! 
Yes,  sir,  you  can't ;  no,  you  can't." 

"  You  are  crazy.     You  can't  what?  " 

"  Oh,  please,  sir,  you  can't  speak  to  hrtii,  sir. 
He  gets  so  angry,  sir." 

"  Get  away  here.     Where  is  he  now  ?  " 

"  He  is  in  the  studio;  please,  sir,  don't  go  in." 

"  Damn  the  studio.  I  must  see  Rembrandt  a 
277 


REMBRANDT 

few  moments.     Show  me  the  room,  or  I'll  make 
you  wish  you  never  had  been  born." 

The  trembling  Jan  complied,  and  Ephraim  Cock, 
angry  and  impatient,  came  straight  upon  the  calm 
burgomaster  and  the  absorbed  painter.  Neither 
noticed  him.  He  stood  just  within  the  door  for  a 
minute  or  two,  and  then  the  perfect  quietness  of 
the  place,  and  the  utter  absence  of  any  recogni 
tion  of  him  began  to  impress  him  very  strangely. 
He !  Ephraim  Cock,  of  the  Civic  Guard  !  Why, 
yes!  certainly!  Not  noticed!  Well,  after  all, 
why  should  he  be  noticed  ?  The  fiery  soldier 
looked  at  the  burgomaster,  one  of  the  arbiters  of 
Amsterdam's  destinies.  He  looked  on  the  greatest 
of  Amsterdam's  painters,  working  diligently,  evi 
dently  inspired.  "  I  rather  think  I  am  a  fool,"  said 
Ephraim  Cock.  "  I  have  no  business  here  ;  "  and 
he  strode  out  of  the  studio  and  went  to  the  dining- 
room  below,  where  he  waited  with  a  patience 
most  befitting,  but  up  to  this  time  quite  unknown 
to  the  doughty  warrior.  After  a  time,  which 
seemed  very  long  to  Ephraim  Cock,  Rembrandt 
came  down,  and  Jan  Six  followed  him. 

"  Well,  well,  you  must  have  a  lot  of  work  to 
do,  if  it  keeps  you  so  long  as  all  this.  I  don't 
know  how  long  I  have  been  waiting,  and  I  could 
not  find  a  drop  to  drink.  Rembrandt,  have  you 
not  a  glass  of  Rhenish  in  the  house  ?  I  am  very 
thirsty." 

"  Oh,  Mynheer  Cock,  I  must  humbly  beg  your 
pardon.  Really,  I  was  not  aware  that  you  were 
here.  Jan,  you  rascal,  why  did  you  not  tell  me 
Mynheer  Cock  was  here?" 

278 


THE    NIGHT-WATCH    IS    ORDERED 

"  But,  master,  you  know,  master,  you  were 
painting,  and  I  dared  not  go  near  you." 

"  Yes,  yes,  I  think  so.  Mynheer  Cock,  I  am 
impatient  of  interruption,  and  this  boy  knows  it. 
Now,  what  would  you  have  of  me?  I  am  at  your 
service.  Forgive  the  long  waiting,  of  which  I 
knew  nothing." 

"Forgive!  nothing  to  forgive!  Waiting!  yes, 
I  hate  that!  But  let  it  pass.  Rembrandt,  you 
know  about  the  Civic  Guard  ?  " 

"  I  should  say  I  did.  I  remember  one  day  when 
I  followed  a  beautiful  woman  in  the  streets  here, 
because  my  friend  Albrecht  loved  her,  and  I 
wanted  to  find  out  where  she  lived ;  and  when  I 
came  near  to  her  she  threatened  to  call  out  the 
guard  on  me.  I  suppose  that  must  be  the  Civic 
Guard.  Yes,  I  know  it  quite  well  enough." 

"  Why,  man,  you  talk  most  strangely.  The 
guard  was  not  called  to  arms  at  that  time,  I  am 
sure." 

"  No,  thank  God !  they  were  not,"  said  Rem 
brandt. 

"  I  am  here  on  quite  another  affair,  Rembrandt. 
You  know,  of  course,  all  the  Doelen  pictures. 
We  all  know  your  masterpiece — I  think  that  is 
what  they  call  it — the  lesson  in  something — oh  ! 
a  doctor— Tulp,  yes,  that's  the  name,  at  least  I 
think  so." 

"  Yes,  Mynheer  Cock,  that  is  the  name,  and  the 
subject  of  the  picture  is  a  lesson  in  anatomy.  I 
see  you  know,  and  I  am  gratified  by  your  remem 
brance  of  it." 

"  Well,  we  want  a  picture  of  the  Civic  Guard. 
279 


REMBRANDT 

Do  you  think  you  could  paint  one  as  good  as  the 
other  thing — that  dissection,  or  anatomy,  or  les 
son,  or  whatever  you  call  it  ?  Don't  speak  yet.  I 
must  say  something  more.  We  soldiers  don't 
want  to  be  dissected.  Of  course,  we  get  killed 
sometimes;  but  could  you  not  paint  us  in  motion, 
you  know  ?  We  fight  sometimes.  When  we're 
dead,  why,  it  doesn't  matter,  if  we  have  done  our 
duty  ;  but  couldn't  you  show  us  as  we  are  when 
we  go  out  to  fight?" 

"  Mynheer  Cock,  I  am  somewhat  bewildered  by 
this  sudden  request.  I  have  just  been  trying  to 
paint  a  portrait  of  our  great  burgomaster,  Jan  Six. 
Not  a  word  has  he  spoken  yet.  I  fear  we  have 
talked  too  much." 

"  Nay,  nay,"  said  Jan  Six  ;  "  on  the  contrary,  the 
talk  is  most  interesting.  I  would  gladly  listen 
longer.  Rembrandt,  surely  your  brush  can  do 
this  that  is  asked  of  you  by  Mynheer  Cock.  1 
know  you  have  not  attempted  it  before,  nor  has 
anyone  else,  but  you  can  do  it.  Let  my  portrait 
rest  for  awhile.  It  can  wait,  but  paint  now  the 
Civic  Guard,  and  let  Amsterdam  be  honored  in 
her  heroes." 

"  I  am  willing  to  try  ;  but  paint  them  in  action  ! 
Did  you  not  say  that,  Herr  Cock  ?  " 

"  Yes,  1  said  that." 

"  But  how  do  it  ?  Are  you  not  quite  peaceful 
here  in  Amsterdam?" 

"  Rembrandt,"  said  Mynheer  Cock,  "you  must 
have  been  asleep.  Peaceful,  you  said  !  Well,  it 
is  true  the  Spaniards  have  not  gotten  in  here,  but 
they  are  trying  their  best.  Why,  man,  you  might 

280 


THE    NIGHT-WATCH    IS    ORDERED 

be  murdered  in  your  bed  to-morrow  night  by  one 
of  them,  unless  we  of  the  Civic  Guard  can  find 
out  what  they  are  about  and  kill  them  first. 
That's  the  only  thing  to  do.  If  you  don't  kill 
them,  they  will  surely  kill  you." 

"  Mynheer  Cock,  you  do  not  mean  that  there  are 
Spanish  conspirators  here  now,  as  there  were  a 
few  years  ago,  when  the  children  heard  them  talk 
ing  there  by  the  Dam,  and  told  the  guards  about 
it?" 

"  How  can  I  tell,  Mynheer  Rembrandt.  The 
thing  has  happened  once,  it  might  happen  again  ; 
but  mind  you,  my  friend,  the  Civic  Guard  is  al 
ways  ready  for  action,  unless  their  banquets  are 
too  much  for  them.  I  wonder  why  they  drink  so 
much  ;  I  wonder  why  they  eat  so  much.  The 
number  of  sausages  that  Heutenburgh  can  con 
sume  !  really,  you  know.  Why,  Rembrandt, 
there  was  one  other  man  who  could  do  that — 
Franz  Hals.  Perhaps  you  may  have  known 
him." 

"I  did  know  him  ;  knew  him  well.  Yes,  I  know 
what  you  mean.  Poor  Hals  !  Still,  he  is  a  great 
painter." 

"  I  suppose  so,  but  I  don't  want  our  Civic  Guard 
painted  the  way  he  painted  his  Doelen  pictures. 
If  you  can't  do  better  than  that — oh,  well !  I  know 
you  can." 

"  Mynheer  Cock,  I  will  do  my  best.  Mynheer 
Six,  will  you  pardon  me  if  I  have  to  wait  a  little 
while  before  I  finish  your  portrait  ?  It  will  not 
be  long.  The  subject  is  dear  to  me,  for  I  hold 
you  to  be  my  friend." 

281 


REMBRANDT 

"  Yes,  Rembrandt,  the  subject  of  the  Civic 
Guard  is  a  far  greater  one,  I  think,  even  than  the 
anatomy  lesson.  Wait,  said  you  ?  Gladly  will  I 
wait,  and  may  you  be  prospered  in  this  work;  for 
I  think,  indeed,  though  I  know  little  about  art, 
that  the  subject  is  one  that  surely  ought  to  in 
terest  everyone.  Rembrandt,  may  I  give  one 
suggestion,  though  it  seems  presumption  ?  I  do 
not  await  your  answer.  What  I  meant  was  this : 
get  into  the  picture  something  of  the  immortal 
William." 

"I  thank  you,  my  friend;  I  might  not  have 
thought  of  that,  save  for  your  word.  I  will 
try." 

"Rembrandt,"  said  Mynheer  Cock,  "you  will 
begin  the  picture  at  once,  I  hope." 

"  Yes,  yes,  I  will ;  but  I  would  like  to  know 
more  about  those  Spanish  conspirators,  and  the 
children  who  told  about  them,  you  said.  That  is 
most  interesting,  and  you  said  there  might  be  such 
conspirators  here  to-day.  How  strange  !  I  never 
thought  of  such  a  thing;  but,  after  all,  I  think  lit 
tle.  I  only  try  to  paint." 

The  courtly  burgomaster  and  the  impetuous 
captain  of  the  Civic  Guard  took  their  leave,  and 
the  painter  did  indeed  begin  to  think.  Such  a 
subject!  Such  possibilities  !  Could  one  study  that 
from  life,  as  the  "Anatomy  Lesson"  had  been 
studied?  If  it  could  be  done,  it  would  certain 
ly  be  a  most  fortunate  happening.  Sometimes 
the  gods  give  painters  just  such  opportunities ; 
but  how  tell  about  it?  how  know?  Wait  then, 


282 


THE    NIGHT-WATCH    IS    ORDERED 

study   the    Civic    Guard,   learn    more   about  the 
Spaniards. 

"  Why,  yes,"  thought  Rembrandt,  "  I  might  have 
known  that  possibly  these  conspirators  are  here 
even  now;  I  will  try  to  find  out  about  that."  He 
did  find  out. 


283 


CHAPTER   XXXIV 

Hendrickje  Comes  to  Amsterdam 

FAR   away   in   the   Zealand    land — at  least,  it 
seemed  far  away  to  the  slow  Hollanders — 
there  were  some  peasants  who  thought  it  might 
be  well  to  go  to  Amsterdam — so  great  a  place ! 
"  Yes,  we  will  go  there." 

Hendrickje  Stoffels  was  one  of  this  family. 
These  people  went  toward  Amsterdam  in  the 
usual  slow  way  of  the  Dutch,  but  they  had  more 
trouble  than  often  came  even  in  those  days.  There 
was  an  attack  of  the  Spaniards  on  a  little  town  near 
the  sea-coast.  The  Dutch  did  what  they  always 
did  under  William's  training — opened  the  dykes. 
It  was  disastrous  for  this  little  party.  Only  two 
of  them  escaped  the  flood— Hendrickje  and  her 
brother.  He  was  older,  but  not  yet  a  man.  Still, 
he  had  courage  and  he  loved  his  sister.  The 
waters  had  overflowed  the  earth,  but  there  was  a 
dyke ;  yes,  there  was  a  road  on  that  not  yet  washed 
away.  Hans  saw  it.  "Oh!  Hendrickje!  we  may 
yet  be  safe.  Come,  come  !  Let  me  help.  Can  you 
swim  ?  No,  I  thought  not.  Let  me  help  thee." 
The  brave  lad  succeeded  ;  and  at  last  the  young 
girl  was  up  above  the  flood,  and  on  the  road  that 
led  to  Amsterdam,  not  very  far  away  from  the 
town,  though  they  knew  not  they  were  so  near. 

284 


HENDRICKJE    COMES    TO    AMSTERDAM 

"  Oh  !  oh  !  oh  !  Hans  !  I  am  dying,  Hans !  Let 
me  alone.  I  cannot  walk.  I  wouldn't  want  to. 
Please  let  me  alone." 

"  Come,  dear  sister.  I  know  you  will.  Oh ! 
what  a  dreadful  day!  My  God  !  my  God !  are  we 
all  to  die?  Is  there  a  curse  on  this  land?  Oh! 
what  is  it?  My  God!  my  God  ! 

They  staggered  rather  than  walked  along  the 
road  and  came,  at  last,  to  Amsterdam,  though 
greatly  surprised  to  see  so  soon  the  gates  and 
spires  of  the  town. 

"  Why  Hendrickje,  look  !  There  it  is!  We  were 
only  a  little  way  from  it.  Oh,  why  were  father 
and  mother  di owned?" 

"  What  saidst  thou,  Hans — drowned !  I  think 
I  am  dreaming,  Hans.  Hold  me.  Oh !  I  shall 
surely  fall." 

It  was  true  that  she  was  fainting.  Food  and 
wine  were  needed.  Where  find  them  ?  The 
young  Zealander  knew  nothing  of  Amsterdam  ; 
but  it  happened  most  fortunately  that  the  road  they 
had  chanced  upon  led  them  to  the  very  centre  of 
the  town — the  great  square  that  was  the  place 
where  now  stands  the  Bourse.  There  were  inns 
in  plenty,  and  it  was  not  long  before  Hans  had 
found  some  good  Rhine  wine  and  a  bit  of  sausage. 

"  Now,  Hendrickje,  sit  thou  there  a  little  while, 
for  I  must  find  a  place  for  us  to  lodge." 

"  Indeed  I  will, -dear  brave  Hans.  Oh!  what  a 
brave  Hans ;  and  yet,  am  I  awake  ?  No,  I  think 
not.  I  must  still  be  dreaming.  Who  is  that 
lovely  little  girl?  Oh,  another  dream,  I  think. 
Please  tell  me,  little  girl,  are  you  alive?" 

285 


REMBRANDT 

The  child  to  whom  Hendrickje  spoke  was  the 
daughter  of  Captain  Ephraim  Cock.  She  had  be 
come  tired  at  the  long  banquet.  These  banquets 
really  were  much  too  long,  and  for  children  quite 
past  endurance.  The  banquet  was  her  father's 
banquet,  in  honor  of  his  election  as  Captain  of  the 
Civic  Guard ;  but  what  cared  the  little  girl  about 
all  that  ?  Run  out  and  play  ?  Yes,  that  was  what 
she  wanted  to  do,  and  did  it. 

"Am  I  alive,  did  you  say?  Why,  what  is  the 
matter  with  you?  I  am  afraid.  I  will  go  back." 
The  little  maiden  started  to  go  again  to  the  hall 
of  the  Civic  Guard,  but  Hendrickje  called  her 
back.  "  Oh  !  please  don't  go  !  I  am  so  tired  and 
lonely.  Please  come  back,  and  sit  on  this  bench 
and  talk  to  me,  for  brother  Hans  has  gone 
away  to  find  a  place  where  we  might  sleep,  and  it. 
is  hard  to  be  alone  ;  and  father  and  mother  are 
dead,  and  I  arn — no,  not  dead,  but  nearly.  I  don't 
know.  Please  come  and  talk  to  me.  You  are  a 
lovely  girl.  You  are  beautiful.  Do  you  live 
here?" 

"  Oh,  yes!  my  father  is  the  greatest  man  in  this 
place.  Did  you  ever  see  my  father?  Oh,  of 
course  not.  You  never  were  here  before.  Well ! 
you  will  see  him.  He  is  at  a  feast  now.  I  think 
they  call  it  a  feast — something  about  shooting  and 
getting  prizes.  I  am  only  a  little  girl,  I  don't 
know  much,  but  I  heard  something  just  now. 
Listen  !  Who  is  talking  there  ?  What  did  you 
say  your  name  was?  You  did  not  say." 

"  Hendrickje  is  my  name,  and  what  is  yours  ? 
sweet  girl?" 

286 


HENDRICKJE    COMES    TO   AMSTERDAM 

"  I  told  you,  I  am  Captain  Cock's  daughter." 

"  And  who  is  Captain  Cock  ?  Oh,  yes!  you  said 
he  is  the  big  man  and  has  the  big  feast,  all  given 
for  him.  Yes,  yes,  I  know.  I  forgot;  but  who  is 
talking  there?  I  heard  them  before.  Oh,  I  am 
frightened." 

"  Why  are  you  afraid?  Let  us  listen.  That  is 
better  than  playing  ball.  What  are  they  saying, 
I  wonder.  They  don't  see  us.  No,  they  don't. 
Sit  quiet.  Let  us  hear.  They  can't  hurt  us." 

"  But,  oh  !  if  they  did  see  us  ! " 

"  They  won't ;  now  just  keep  as  quiet  as  a  mouse. 
There's  more  fun  for  me  here  than  in  the  big  place 
where  they  are  eating — oh  !  so  much  more!  Wait, 
listen,  what  are  those  men  talking  about?" 

"  Carlos,  there  could  be  entrance  here.  See 
you  the  St.  Anthony  gate?  It  is  ill-guarded. 
There  are  but  few  of  their  lazy  Dutchmen  near  it. 
They  are  asleep,  I  think.  They  will  be  to-morrow. 
Now,  let  us  tell  the  commander.  It  is  surely  easy 
to  make  entrance  here,  under  cover  of  night.  You 
know  that  our  ships  are  not  far  off.  Let  us  land 
our  men,  and  break  in  at  night,  and  seize  that  place 
where  the  Dutch  guardsmen,  as  they  call  them, 
are  roystering  now.  Once  we  get  that,  Amster 
dam  is  ours." 

"  Friend  Jago,  how  far  off  are  the  ships?" 

"  They  are  near  by,  waiting  to  help  in  this  at 
tempt." 

"Yes,  but  are  they  near  enough?  Better  wait 
and  be  sure.  Are  you  certain  that  no  one  knows 
of  our  plans?  Ha!  what  is  that?  I  heard  some 
voices,  I  am  sure,  Let  us  look.  It  is  as  I  said. 

287 


REMBRANDT 

There  is  somebody  there.  We  may  have  been 
overheard.  Jago,  you  are  frightened  !  " 

"  I  am  not;  there  they  are.  What?  two  girls? 
They  must  have  heard  ;  they  were  sitting  there. 
Let  us  seize  them  at  once." 

These  two  Spaniards  ran  toward  Hendrickje 
and  Hiskia  Cock.  Hendrickje  was  not  a  fleet 
runner,  and  she  was  tired — oh  !  so  tired,  because 
of  the  flood  and  all  her  trials;  but  the  other  girl 
was  as  fleet  as  an  antelope.  She  escaped  ;  but  the 
Spaniards  seized  Hendrickje  and  bore  her  off  be 
tween  them  very  rapidly  toward  the  road  that 
led  to  the  sea,  where  the  Spanish  vessels  were 
waiting. 

"  I  will  go  and  tell  father.  Yes,  I  will.  Father, 
he  will  chase  them,  those  awful  men."  And  she 
ran  as  quickly  as  she  could  to  the  banquet-hall  of 
the  Civic  Guard,  where  she  had  been  so  long. 
Rembrandt  was  there  ;  and  when  the  little  girl 
came  in,  giving  the  alarm  at  the  top  of  her  voice, 
he  heard,  and  said :  "  Captain  Cock,  this  is  no  time 
for  sport.  Put  all  that  away.  I  believe  this  child 
is  telling  us  something  to  which  we  ought  to  pay 
good  heed.  Didst  thou  say  Spaniards,  little 
one?  " 

"  Yes,  I  think  one  was  Carlos,  and  one  was 
Jago." 

"  And  there  was  another  little  maid  with  thee  ? 
What  did  they  with  her?" 

"  I  don't  know.     They  took  her  away." 

"  Come,  let  us  away  from  here.  It  is  another 
conspiracy.  Come,  Captain  Cock,  Lieutenant 
Heutenburgh.  At  once,  let  us  go.  Beat  the  drum, 

288 


HENDRICKJE    COMES   TO    AMSTERDAM 

Mvnheer  Bancock.  Unfurl  the  standard  there. 
This  is  a  time  for  action." 

"  Who  is  in  command  of  this  company,  Myn 
heer  Rembrandt?" 

"  Oh  !  I  know  you  are.  Pardon  !  But  come,  let 
its  find  the  Spaniards,  and  rescue  the  poor  girl." 

"  To  arms,  my  friends  !  Load  arquebuses.  Pike- 
men  !  be  ready.  Forth  now,  toward  the  Dam  as 
quickly  as  ye  may  !  Forget  the  feasting !  On 
ward  !  " 

Onward  they  went.  Rembrandt,  unarmed,  went 
with  them,  and  as  they  started  on  their  quest  he 
said :  "  These  are  our  Dutch  soldiers.  Would 
that  I  were  one  of  them.  This  is  far  better  than 
painting.  What  excitement  !  Yet  some  may  be 
killed,  but  they  do  not  seem  to  care.  Oh,  the  lit 
tle  maid — and  carried  along  by  those  villains.  I 
will  go  to  find  her." 

The  soldiers  swept  on  with  a  rush.  They  came 
to  the  Dam.  There  was  no  one  there. 

"Hold!"  said  Captain  Cock.  "Those  villains 
must  have  taken  this  road,  the  one  that  leads  most 
directly  to  the  sea.  Surely  they  are  hoping  for 
help  from  their  ships.  On  !  I  say  !  On  !  quickly  !  " 

These  Dutchmen  entirely  forgot  their  habitual 
slowness.  Their  blood  was  up.  The  Spaniards 
always  set  it  on  fire.  In  solid  column,  but  at  a 
run,  they  rushed  along  the  road.  The  conspir 
ators  were  completely  surprised.  They  ran  as 
hard  as  they  could  and  left  Hendrickje,  half-dead, 
in  the  middle  of  the  narrow  road.  It  was  almost 
a  miracle  that  Captain  Cock's  band  did  not  trample 
her  in  the  dust;  but  they  passed  on  without  hurt- 

289 


REMBRANDT 

ing  her,  and  Rembrandt,  who  was  behind,  found 
her  lying  there.  The  Dutch  caught  the  Span 
iards,  and  there  was  short  lease  of  life  for  them. 
They  would  not  tell  what  they  were  doing,  and 
without  further  waiting  they  were  killed  on  the 
spot.  Then  Captain  Cock's  band  turned  back, 
and  soon  the  leader,  who  was  in  front,  like  all  the 
Dutch  captains,  found  his  artist  friend  with  the 
body  of  the  half-lifeless  girl  in  his  arms. 

"Rembrandt,  whom  have  you  there?  Who  is 
the  girl  ?  " 

"  I  know  not;  but  she  is  the  maiden  those  Span 
iards  had  seized.  What  can  we  do  with  her?" 

"  I  know  not ;  but  if  she  has  fainted,  bring  some 
water  quickly — any  of  you.  Make  haste." 

That  was  soon  done,  and  Hendrickje  revived 
enough  to  tell  her  name,  and  how  she  came  to  be 
there. 

"  She  is  an  orphan,  then,  poor  child  !  poor  child  ! 
Let  us  take  her  to  the  orphan  home,  Captain 
Cock.  Think  you  not  that  is  best  ?  " 

"Yes,  it  is;  but  she  is  not  of  our  Amsterdam 
folk,  if  I  heard  rightly  what  she  said.  Neverthe 
less,  I  am  sure  they  will  not  refuse  her  refuge 
there." 

"  They  will  not.  They  could  not."  And  so  it 
happened  that  Hendrickje,  half-carried  by  Rem 
brandt,  and  followed  by  the  Civic  Guard  of  Am 
sterdam,  found  lodgement  and  rest  in  the  great 
asylum,  which  was  the  noblest  charity  of  Hol 
land's  capital. 


aoo 


CHAPTER   XXXV 

The  Sketch  of  the  Night-  Watch 

IT  had  been  a  time  of  the  most  intense  excite 
ment  for  Rembrandt,  but  he  had  been  away 
from  his  home  so  long  that  Saskia  was  much 
alarmed.  That  was  something  so  unusual,  so  un 
precedented. 

"  Where  hast  thou  been,  my  own,  tell  me?" 

"  Where  have  I  been?  Oh,  my  Saskia!  I  have 
had  a  most  extraordinary  experience.  I  have 
learned — at  least,  I  think  I  have — how  to  paint  the 
Civic  Guard  in  action,  because  I  have  seen  it ;  and 
such  action!  Saskia  !  I  wish  you  could  have  seen 
them  chase  the  Spaniards,  and  kill  them  the  mo 
ment  they  caught  them." 

"  Rembrandt,  why  were  you  there  ?  Why  did 
you  go  into  a  battle  ?  Tell  me,  why?" 

"  I  did  not  go  into  it,  Saskia.  I  only  followed 
behind  the  Guard.  You  know,  t  was  asked  to  the 
banquet ;  and  it  is  not  long  since  you  told  me  I 
ought  not  to  stay  always  in  my  home,  but  to  go 
out  at  times." 

"  Yes,  that  is  true,  I  remember;  and  you  went 
to  the  banquet.  But  why  was  there  a  fight  ?  " 

"  Why,  Saskia,  some  little  girls — one  of  them 
was  Captain  Cock's  daughter — had  overheard,  in 
the  big  square,  some  talk  between  two  Spaniards, 

291 


REMBRANDT 

who  were  spies  and  seeking  to  find  a  way  for  the 
Spanish  forces  to  take  Amsterdam.  One  of  the 
little  girls  they  caught  and  took  away  with  them ; 
but  the  other  escaped,  gave  the  alarm  to  her  fa 
ther,  and  the  Civic  Guard  went  out  at  once.  Their 
quickness  was  astonishing." 

"  Rembrandt,  tell  me !  What  became  of  the 
little  girl  ?  Did  they  carry  her  off  with  them  ?  " 

"  Saskia,  it  was  of  that  I  wished  to  speak.  I 
found  the  poor  child  half-dead.  She  was  lying 
in  the  middle  of  the  road,  and  I  see  not  why  the 
soldiers  did  not  tread  upon  her;  but  she  escaped, 
as  it  were,  by  a  miracle.  With  the  help  of  the 
others  I  brought  her  to  the  asylum,  where  they 
care  for  the  orphans  of  Amsterdam.  Saskia,  the 
poor  child  had  lost  her  father  and  mother  as  they 
were  coming  here  from  Zealand !  The  Dutch 
had  opened  the  dykes  because  of  a  Spanish  attack 
on  one  of  our  towns,  and  most  of  the  party  were 
drowned ;  but  this  girl  escaped  because  of  the 
bravery  of  her  brother." 

"  Oh,  Rembrandt,  let  us  go  at  once  to  see  the 
poor  child.  It  may  be  that  we  can  help  her.  I 
know  now  why  you  stayed  away  so  long.  It  was 
a  good  and  a  brave  deed.  Thy  Saskia  is  more 
proud  of  thee  than  ever,  if  that  were  possible. 
Come,  let  us  go." 

"  Gladly  will  I  go,  dearest  Saskia.  I  knew  thy 
tender  heart  would  be  touched,  even  at  the  very 
thought  of  such  suffering;  but  I  think  there  is 
little  to  do  at  present,  for  she  is  well  cared  for 
now,  at  least  for  the  time." 

"  Never  mind  !     Come,  let  us  go.     My  heart  is 

2Q2 


THE   SKETCH    OF   THE    NIGHT-WATCH 

sore  for  the  suffering  of  one  so  young  and  friend 
less.  Did  the  brother  comeback?" 

"  Nay,  Saskia,  we  found  him  not ;  I  know  not 
what  has  become  of  him." 

Rembrandt  and  his  wife  went  directly  to  the 
asylum.  Hendrickje  had  not  recovered  from  the 
effect  of  her  awful  experience.  She  was  in  bed, 
but  Saskia  was  admitted  to  the  room  where  she 
lay ;  and  she  talked  with  the  young  girl  a  few  mo 
ments,  saying  soothing  words  and  telling  her  not 
to  be  downhearted,  for  there  were  some  in  Am 
sterdam  who  would  take  care  of  her.  The  little 
maiden  was  comforted  by  the  sweet  words,  and 
even  more  by  the  lovely  face,  with  its  look  of 
tenderness  that  had  always  been  there  when  Sas 
kia  looked  upon  young  people  ever  since  the 
mother  had  lost  her  own  children. 

Soon  Hendrickje  fell  asleep,  and  Saskia  came 
down  and  rejoined  Rembrandt.  "  Oh,  the  poor 
child!  How  terrible!  Rembrandt,  sawest  thou 
her  beauty?  Thou  didst  not  speak  of  that." 

"  Indeed  !  yes  !  I  saw  it.  It  is  a  rare  face,  a  rare 
form.  I  knew  not  that  our  Dutch  peasants  could 
look  like  that.  I  must  paint  her,  but  not  until  I 
finish  my  picture  of  the  Guard.  Let  us  go  back 
now,  dearest.  I  wish  to  begin  my  sketch." 

"Yes,  we  will  go;  but  what  to  do  about  her? 
Oh !  I  think  I  know.  We  need  a  little  maid  to 
help  in  the  dining-room.  She  is  young,  but  she 
could  do  something,  and  later  she  would  do  more. 
I  wonder  if  she  would  take  such  a  place?  " 

"  I  think  it  is  likely  that  she  would  do  that,  but 
for  the  time,  my  own,  leave  her  where  she  is.  She 

293 


REMBRANDT 

has  the  best  of  care.  Moreover,  I  want  to  paint 
her  there.  The  garb  of  those  orphan  children  is 
singularly  interesting.  The  building,  too,  is  quite 
worth  painting.  I  would  paint  her  at  one  of  the 
windows  that  looks  out  upon  the  court.  Even 
now  would  I  paint  her.  I  must  hasten,  but  the 
other  sketch  must  first  be  made.  I  have  wasted 
much  time." 

"  Oh,  my  dear  lord,  surely  thou  hast  not  wasted 
time.  That  is  not  like  your  kind  heart.  It  was 
an  errand  of  mercy,  and  you  wanted  to  help  the 
young  girl.  I  know  you  did." 

"Yes!  yes!  but  I  must  begin  my  sketch." 

"Wilt  thou  sketch  without  getting  the  soldiers 
here  ?  Why,  that  is  not  thy  way  of  working  !  " 

"  The  sketch  is  only  a  composition,  a  thought. 
Later  I  will  paint  in  the  portraits." 

They  went  back  to  the  home,  and  Rembrandt 
rushed  to  the  studio.  Now  he  had  forgotten 
everything  but  the  picture  that  was  already  real 
to  the  eye  of  his  mind. 

"  This  must  be  a  large  picture — yes,  surely  larger 
than  the  'Anatomy  Lesson.'  How  many  figures  ? 
About  twenty-five,  I  think — Cock  in  the  centre,  of 
course;  Heutenburgh  beside  him.  Oh,  the  little 
girl!  She  must  be  in  the  centre  too.  She  gave  the 
alarm.  Now  this  is  troublesome,  there  is  not  room 
to  put  in  all  these  men — not  their  entire  figures.  I 
can  at  best  only  get  in  the  heads  of  some  of  them  ; 
that  I  must  do.  Perhaps  there  will  hardly  be 
room  for  that,  but  I  hope  it  can  be  done.  I  must 
make  a  picture,  and  I  must  centre  the  interest  on 
Cock  and  the  little  girl.  Let  me  try  !  It  is  for- 

294 


THE   SKETCH    OF   THE    NIGHT-WATCH 

tunate  that  I  have  the  big  canvas  here.  I  thought 
I  should  need  it."  So  alone  in  the  study,  with  only 
the  wondering,  faithful  Jan  beside  him,  holding 
the  charcoals  and  crayons,  Rembrandt  began  the 
work.  The  day  wore  on.  He  was  called  to  the 
mid-day  meal;  he  heard  not  the  call,  nor  would 
he  have  come  if  he  had  heard  it.  Saskia  came  to 
the  studio  and  entered  unperceived.  At  a  glance 
she  saw  the  painter's  intense  absorption.  It  would 
be  unkind  to  interrupt  him.  Later  she  would 
give  him  needed  refreshments,  when  he  would  be 
forced  by  very  fatigue  to  leave  the  great  canvas. 
It  was  a  long  time — indeed,  only  the  gathering 
shadows  of  the  evening  forced  the  painter  from 
his  work.  "Why,  I  cannot  see!  What  is  the 
matter  ?  If  I  lose  my  eyesight,  I  might  as  well 
die;  or,  is  it  dark  here?  Is  that  you,  Jan?  " 

"  Yes,  master." 

"  How  long  have  you  been  here  ?  " 

"  I  know  not,  master.  It  is  a  very  long  time, 
and  I  am  hungry,  and  my  back  is  nearly  broken, 
master." 

"  Ah,  that  is  it,  then;  the  day  is  over.  I  see,  I 
see.  Why  spoke  you  not  to  me  before  ?  " 

"  Please,  master,  I  didn't  dare.  I  was  afraid  you 
would  be  angry,  master." 

The  sketch  was  completed,  put  in  with  strong 
lines  of  charcoal  and  crayon,  and  a  few  flat  tones 
in  sepia,  to  suggest  the  color  scheme.  In  it  even 
now  was  the  breadth,  the  vitality,  the  movement, 
of  the  great  Night-Watch.  There  was  to  be 
added  the  life  of  each  one  of  those  Dutch  civic 
soldiers. 

295 


REMBRANDT 

Saskia  had  been  sitting  for  some  time  in  the 
back  part  of  the  room.  She  would  not  interrupt 
him,  for  she  herself  was  artist  enough  to  appre 
ciate  that  a  masterpiece  was  being  produced  be 
fore  her  eyes — yet,  oh  !  how  much  it  cost !  Well 
she  knew  the  weariness  that  would  come  after 
ward.  When  the  painter  ceased  his  work  on 
compulsion,  because  of  the  lack  of  light,  Saskia 
spoke.  "  Rembrandt,  my  own  husband,  thou  art 
too  tired."  It  was  true.  Rembrandt  reeled  and 
nearly  fell  as  he  left  his  easel.  Such  were  the  ef 
forts  that  shortened  his  life.  Saskia  came  quickly 
toward  him.  She  had  foreseen  the  result  of  such 
continuous  labor,  and  had  in  her  hand  a  glass  of 
strong  wine,  which  she  gave  him  instantly.  It 
prevented  his  fainting.  "  Please  come ;  oh  !  my 
dear!  Please  come  and  eat.  Oh!  do  come 
quickly.  Thinkest  thou,  my  own,  that  it  is  well 
to  die  for  thine  art  ?  Come,  I  say." 

"  Yes,  I  have  done  too  much,  I  suppose.  I 
meant  it  not.  I  forgot.  I  will  come.  Where  is 
Albrecht?  Saskia,  1  would  show  him  the  sketch. 
He  knows  ;  look  at  his  Dlirer  prints.  Oh  !  where 
is  Albrecht?  I  fear,  Saskia,  I  am  not  quite  my 
self.  The  work  has  overcome  me.  I  will  go  to 
the  dining-room,  as  thou  sayest.  Why,  I  wonder 
when  I  last  ate  anything  ?  Jan  !  " 

"  Yes,  master." 

"  Go,  seek  Herr  Albrecht." 

"  But,  master,  I  can't ;  I  haven't  eaten  any  more 
than  you.  Oh,  I  am  so  tired." 

"  True.  Well,  go  get  something  to  eat,  and 
then  seek  Herr  Albrecht." 

296 


THE    SKETCH    OF    THE    NIGHT-WATCH 

"Yes,  master,  I  will,  I  will.  Oh,  somebody 
get  me  something  to  eat." 

"Come,  both  of  you,"  said  Saskia.  "There  is 
plenty  to  eat  below,  and  long  enough,  indeed,  has 
it  been  waiting." 

"  Saskia,  never  in  my  life  before  did  I  see  thee 
lose  patience." 

"  Nay,  I  have  not  quite  lost  it,  but  I  wonder  why 
I  have  not.  If  thou  dost  such  things,  how  canst 
thou  think  that  I  could  be  patient  ?  " 

They  went  to  the  dining-room,  and  poor  little 
Jan  ate  like  a  shipwrecked  sailor  rescued  from  a 
raft.  Rembrandt,  too,  was  hungry,  but  still  think 
ing  of  his  picture,  so  that  at  times  he  forgot  the 
food. 

"  Jan,  hurry  there  ;  wilt  thou  eat  everything  in 
the  house?  Haste,  I  would  see  Herr  Albrecht." 

"Yes,  indeed,  master.  I  will,  I  will.  Oh,  one 
more  sausage !  It  won't  take  long,  master,  not 
long — only  one  more." 

At  last  the  lad  was  satisfied,  at  least  for  the 
time,  and  went  in  search  of  the  German. 

"Saskia!  I  am  very  anxious  indeed  to  know 
what  Albrecht  has  to  say  about  this  work.  I  think 
him  a  really  great  critic,  though  I  verily  believe 
he  does  not  know  it  himself." 

"  I  think  that,  too.  Now,  it  is  a  pity  that  Al 
brecht  does  not  do  more  with  his  powers.  I  am 
going  to  have  a  talk  with  him  about  that  very 
thing." 

"  Saskia,  thou  shouldst  know  that  when  a  man 
is  in  love,  and  his  lady  smiles  not  upon  him,  he  is 
not  in  that  state  of  mind  which  could  mean  good 

297 


REMBRANDT 

work.  Wait  for  Hildegarde  for  awhile.  She  is 
wayward,  impetuous,  perhaps  capricious,  but  she- 
will  learn  to  love.  I  know  it ;  I  saw  it  in  her  face  ; 
but,  Saskia !  dearest,  Albrecht  can  criticise  even 
now,  though  possibly  he  could  not  do  work  of  his 
own." 

"  Yes,  my  dear  lord,  that  is  true.  Well,  Jan  has 
gone  to  fetch  him  soon." 

It  was  as  Saskia  said.  Albrecht  came  almost  as 
she  spoke.  He  seemed  downhearted  and  weary  ; 
but  he  was  glad  to  come,  for  he  had  not  been  in 
Rembrandt's  home  for  some  time. 

"  What  is  it,  friend  Rembrandt?  You  sent  the 
little  boy  for  me.  Can  I  help  you  in  any  way?  " 

The  greeting  was  rather  abrupt,  and  lacked  the 
German's  usual  courtesy. 

"  Albrecht,  come  here.  I  would  show  you  my 
sketch,"  said  Rembrandt. 

"Yes!  yes!  but,  Mistress  Saskia!  most  hum 
bly  do  I  beg  your  pardon.  Indeed,  as  I  entered 
I  saw  not  that  you  were  there." 

"  That  matters  not,  Herr  Albrecht.  My  hus 
band  wanted  to  know  your  thought  about  his  new 
picture.  Oh!  the  great  one  he  is  painting  now! 
Oh  !  I  ought  not  to  say  that !  Of  course,  you  should 
judge  for  yourself.  I  am  foolish  about  his  work, 
I  think." 

"  Saskia,  hold  thy  peace,  and  let  me  take  Herr 
Albrecht  to  the  studio." 

"  As  thou  wilt,  but  may  I  not  also  go  ?  I  am  no 
art  critic,  but  I  should  love  to  hear  what  our  dear 
friend  says." 

"  Come,  then,    come ;  but    hasten,   for   Captain 
298 


THE    SKETCH    OF    THE    NIGHT-WATCH 

Cock  will  be  here  soon,  and  I  would  not  show 
him  the  sketch  unless  it  is  good." 

The  three  went  to  the  studio.  When  Albrecht 
saw  the  great  canvas,  with  only  a  sketch  on  it,  he 
stepped  back  in  amazement. 

"What  is  that,  Rembrandt?  No!  tell  me  not! 
I  see  what  it  is;  but  where  did  you  find  the  truth 
about  the  Guard  ?  No !  don't  tell  me  that  either. 
I  would  rather  find  out  for  myself,  if  I  can.  Surely 
it  is  the  Guard.  It  is  more  than  the  Guard.  It 
is  the  life  of  the  Guard." 

"  Is  that  indeed  true,  Albrecht?"  said  Saskia. 

"  Of  course  it  is  true.  He  never  painted  any 
thing  but  truth." 

"  Friend  Rembrandt,  I  knew  your  greatness.  I 
thought  I  did.  You  know  that  I  have  always 
loved  you,  but  this !  Why,  only  a  sketch  and  yet 
the  very  life  of  the  Guard  !  Even  in  Nuremberg 
we  Germans  have  heard  of  the  deeds  that  have 
been  done  here.  I  was  not  with  you  in  the  ad 
venture,  dear  Rembrandt,  but  surely  it  must  have 
been  like  the  other.  It  is  as  real  as  the  'Anatomy 
Lesson.'  ' 

"  Never  mind  about  the  adventure,  dear  friend. 
The  only  question  is  about  the  reality  and  vitality 
of  the  picture." 

"  Why,  Rembrandt !  there  is  no  question  about 
that.  Even  the  sketch  moves  of  itself.  I  wonder 
it  comes  not  quite  off  the  canvas  ;  but  the  little 
girl — why  the  little  girl,  and  in  the  very  midst  of 
it  all?  You  must  tell  me.  I  know  you  saw  it, 
Rembrandt.  Surely,  you  are  a  favorite  of  the 
gods.  You  could  not  have  sketched  that  unless 

299 


REMBRANDT 

you  had  seen  it;  and  now  I  know  just  what  you 
will  do.  Every  one  of  those  soldiers,  from  Captain 
to  drummer,  will  be  alive  in  the  picture  ;  yes,  I 
see  that  already,  but  how  did  you  do  it?  Tell 
me  the  story." 

"  Not  now,  Albrecht.  Your  criticism  was  what  I 
wanted.  If  this  sketch  produces  such  an  impres 
sion  upon  so  keen  an  art  critic  as  you  are,  that  is 
quite  enough.  I  will  go  on  and  finish  the  work." 

"Keen  art  critic?  What  mean  you,  Rem 
brandt?  You  never  said  such  a  thing  to  me  be 
fore." 

"  Oh  !  perhaps  I  never  did,  but  it  is  true  just 
the  same.  You  know  your  Du'rer  prints,  do  you 
not?  Well,  a  man  who  knows  those  is  almost  an 
artist  himself." 

"  Oh  !  well,  I  never  thought  about  that  before. 
Art  critic !  I  wonder  what  such  a  man  does. 
I  don't  remember  any  of  them.  Do  you  know 
any  that  ever  did  anything,  Rembrandt?" 

"Do  anything?  Ha!  let  me  think.  Yes,  some 
times  they  do  a  great  deal." 

"But  who?  Rembrandt,  tell  me  the  names  of 
these  men.  If  I  am  a  great  one,  as  you  said,  I  am 
sure  I  did  not  know  it;  and  it  might  be  well  to 
use  the  gift,  if  it  is  one.  Oh,  Rembrandt,  you  are 
only  making  fun  of  me  ;  why  talk  before  such  a 
masterpiece?  I  know  it  is  not  yet  done,  my  dear, 
dear  friend;  but  what  you  have  done  !  What  is 
it?  Let  me  look  again.  I  think,  my  friend,  you 
have  painted — no,  you  haven't  painted,  only 
sketched — the  life  of  the  land  whose  ruler  was  the 
immortal  William." 

300 


THE    SKETCH    OF    THE    NIGHT-WATCH. 

"  Albrecht,  have  I  any  of  his  spirit  in  that  sketch  ? 
Mynheer  Six  told  me  it  should  be  there.  Is  it 
there?  " 

"  Surely,  surely ;  but,  my  dear  friend,  I  cannot 
criticise  it  without  the  color.  I  don't  wish  to 
criticise  it  at  all.  This  will  I  say,  I  know  the  life 
is  in  it ;  and  if  the  other  people  do  not  know  it, 
why  they  cannot,  and  that  is  the  end  of  it,  so  far 
as  they  are  concerned." 

"  Yes,  Albrecht,  that  is  the  truth.  The  woful 
part  of  it  is  that  they  do  not  know,  and  greatly  do 
I  fear  this  picture  will  make  trouble." 

"  How,  Rembrandt?" 

"  Let  it  rest  for  the  time.  We  have  talked 
enough  about  it.  Where  is  your  lady,  your  love, 
the  beautiful  Hildegarde?" 

"  Oh,  Rembrandt,  please  do  not  speak  of  her. 
Do  not,  I  pray." 

"  Ah,  you  love  her  no  more,  then,  else  would  you 
talk  of  her  without  ceasing." 

"  Love  her  no  more  !  love  her  no  more  !  Could 
I  ever  love  aught  else?  But,  my  friend,  she  will 
have  naught  to  do  with  me." 

"  When  saw  you  her  last  ?  " 

"  It  is  but  a  day  or  two  past.  I  went  to  the 
house  and  I  asked  about  Hildebrand." 

"  You  did  ?     Did  you  ask  about  anybody  else  ?  " 

"  How  could  I  ?  The  beautiful  lady  was  before 
me.  There  was  nothing  to  say,  for  she  turned 
away  and  left  me  staring  at  her.  I  could  not 
speak  one  word." 

"  Oh,  very  well,  perhaps  it  was  better  not  to 
speak,  if  you  had  no  more  courage  than  that." 

301 


REMBRANDT 

"  Rembrandt,  she  treated  me  in  the  same  way 
when  we  came  back  from  Egmont.  She  will  never 
look  at  me  again." 

"  Humph  !  not  unless  you  give  her  a  chance,  and 
a  good  many  chances.  Friend  Albrecht,  I  find 
the  painter  gets  to  love  the  thing  he  looks  at,  if 
there  is  beauty  in  it  or  worth  of  any  kind.  I 
wonder  if  it  might  not  be  that  same  way  with  a 
woman?" 

"  Hold  your  peace,  Rembrandt.  I  will  not  hear 
such  words  about  Hildegarde.  She  is  an  angel — 
no,  not  just  that.  She  is  better  than  that.  Yes, 
she  is  an  angel — like  which  one?  Not  St.  Michael. 
Oh,  he  was  a  man  !  Yes,  I  mean  a  man  angel.  St. 
Agnes — no,  she  didn't  fight,  but  she  didn't  love, 
either.  There  is  some  angel  that  both  loved  and 
fought.  Yes,  that  is  Hildegarde." 

"  A  fighting  angel !  and  a  woman,  too  !  Al 
brecht,  I  believe  you  have  lost  your  wits." 

"  Yes,  I  knew  that  long  ago ;  but  it  is  worse  to 
lose  your  heart,  and  mine  is  quite  gone." 

"  Albrecht,  you  have  not  lost  all  your  heart. 
There  is  some  of  it  left  for  me.  I  know  it.  I  thank 
you  for  your  criticism.  I  am  more  than  delighted 
by  your  enthusiasm  about  my  work.  You  can 
never  know  what  that  means  to  me." 

"  If  I  have  given  you  pleasure  by  my  words,  I 
am  more  than  delighted,  my  dear,  dear  friend." 


302 


CHAPTER   XXXVI 

Again  Hildegarde  to   Undine 

OH,  my  dear,  I  don't  know  what  to  say.  I  am 
perfectly  sure  I  do  not.  Then  you  will 
answer  —  if  you  do  answer — "Why  say  any 
thing?"  Oh,  that's  perfectly  true,  if  you  don't 
know;  but  still  there  is  something  to  say — at  least, 
I  think  there  is.  Now,  he  met  me  only  a  little 
while  ago.  Of  course,  I  don't  mean  Rembrandt, 
who  followed  me  about  the  streets,  and  I  came 
very  near  calling  out  the  Civic  Guard  to  protect 
me ;  I  was  near  their  hall.  But  Rembrandt  ran 
away  when  I  spoke  about  the  guard.  Now,  Un 
dine,  think  what  you  will,  I  went  afterward  to 
Rembrandt's  studio,  and  disguised  as  a  man !  and 
the  great  painter  wanted  to  paint  my  portrait,  in 
such  a  garb  !  Think  of  it !  But,  oh  !  there  is  so 
much  worse  to  follow.  I  went  to  Egmont  in 
search  of  my  Cousin  Hildebrand,  who  was  ill,  and 
Dr.  Tulp  had  sent  him  there.  What  did  I  find  ? 
A  fight,  and  a  big  fight,  too.  They  were  trying  to 
take  a  castle  wnere  Hildebrand  was  lying  sick, 
maybe  dying.  The  lazy  Dutch  people  wouldn't 
go  to  the  rescue.  I  thought  I  would  help  if  I 
could.  I  found  some  armor  in  an  upper  room  of 
the  inn,  and  I  began  putting  it  on.  Oh  !  oh !  Un 
dine  !  At  that  moment  he  came  in.  I  don't  mean 

303 


REMBRANDT 

Rembrandt,  you  know!  It  was  the  other,  Al- 
brecht — that  is  his  name,  I  believe — and  he  saw 
me  there.  Undine,  I  don't  know  how  much  of  it 
I  had  on.  Oh,  dear !  Yes,  surely  the  breastplate 
was  on.  Well,  as  to  the  rest — Oh  !  oh  !  I  think  I 
must  have  put  on  the  greaves!  I  hope  I  did,  but 
I  am  not  quite  sure.  Why  will  a  woman  try  to 
fight,  anyway  ?  Now,  Undine,  surely  it  is  not 
her  affair  at  all,  and  just  see  how  it  has  undone 
me.  He  came  in  and  I  was  angry,  and  he  said  he 
didn't  know  whether  I  was  a  man  or  a  woman.  I 
wonder  not!  Oh,  how  much  of  the  armor  did 
I  have  on?  I  cannot  remember.  Now,  Undine,  I 
have  a  thought  about  that  man — that  German — 
that  he  has  some  strange  ideas  about  me.  He  said 
he  saw  me  in  Nuremberg.  Perhaps  he  did.  I 
was  not  half-dressed  in  armor  then,  thank  God  ! 
The  man  is  even  handsomer  than  Rembrandt,  and 
that  is  saying  a  great  deal.  Handsome! — well !  I 
should  think  he  was .'  You  need  not  think  I  am 
in  love  with  him ;  and  yet,  of  course,  you  will  think 
that  because  of  my  silly  talk.  Why,  Undine,  I 
have  hardly  talked  with  him  at  all ;  and  when  he 
saw  me  that  way  at  Egmont,  I  was  ready  to  die 
from  shame.  I  wonder  why  he  is  so  handsome. 
He  looks  to  me  like  Albrecht  Diirer  himself.  No  ! 
he  has  not  the  power.  Yes,  he  has — I  believe  he 
has  ;  but  I  know  him  not,  and  I  couldn't  tell  you 
why  I  talk  about  him.  Oh !  Undine,  have  you 
heard  of  the  painting  of  the  Civic  Guard — Rem 
brandt's,  I  mean?  That  is  a  change  of  subject;  but 
it  is  a  picture  of  great  men,  and  Albrecht  is  great, 
though,  perhaps,  not  now  do  people  know  it.  Oh! 

304 


AGAIN  HILDEGARDE   TO    UNDINE 

I  am  sure  of  it.  If  I  had  any  wit,  Undine,  I  should 
tear  up  this  letter.  It  is  so  confused,  and  I  do 
not  understand  it  myself.  I  hope  I  may  meet 
Albrecht  again,  and  have  a  chance  to  talk  with 
him  in  such  a  way  as  to  know  something  of  his 
thoughts.  I  am  not  mad,  but  I  believe  he  thinks 
I  am;  and  why  shouldn't  he?  Oh,  that  armor! 
why  did  I  not  have  it  all  on  before  he  came  up  ! 
I  have  not  seen  him  of  late.  I  am  taking  care  of 
Hildebrand,  who  is  still  ill ;  but  he  is  getting  bet 
ter.  What  is  Albrecht  doing,  I  wonder?  He 
will  not  come  to  see  me  because  I  forbid  him,  and 
I  didn't  want  to  do  that,  either — at  least,  I  think 
not ;  although,  be  sure  I  love  him  not,  nor  he  me — 
at  least,  I  think  he  would  have  spoken  of  it  if  he 
had  loved  me,  and  he  never  did.  Please  write  to 
me,  dearest  Undine.  I  wait  for  words  from  the 
mother-land.  Oh,  I  am  so  homesick,  so  heartsick, 
and  life  is  dreary  here.  Holland  is  flat  and  it 
rains.  Oh,  I  wish  I  were  at  dear  Nuremberg 
again.  Once  I  get  there,  not  you,  nor  Albrecht, 
nor  Rembrandt,  nor  anyone  else  shall  ever  see 
me  in  armor  or  half-armor. 

Your  own  sister  friend, 

HILDEGARDE. 


305 


CHAPTER   XXXVII 

The  Soldiers  in  the  NigJit-Watch  arc  Painted 

MORNING  in  the  studio.  Rembrandt  at 
work  on  the  sketch  of  the  Night- Watch.  It 
had  not  been  wholly  finished,  though  very  nearly. 
A  loud  knock  at  the  door,  and  poor  Jan,  fright 
ened,  as  he  always  was,  opened  it  in  spite  of  his 
fear. 

"  Oh,  my  lord,  my  lord,"  for  it  was  Captain 
Cock,  and  the  poor  little  fellow  ran  away  as  fast 
as  he  could. 

"  What  is  the  trouble  with  that  varlet  there  ? 
I  meant  no  harm  to  him.  Why  did  he  run  away? 
What  ho!  there,  mynheer!  Is  there  no  one  who 
can  give  me  entrance?"  The  doughty  captain's 
voice  was  so  loud  that  Rembrandt  heard  it,  al 
though  he  was  working  still  on  the  sketch. 

"  Is  there  someone  there  below  ?  " 

"  There  is,  indeed.  It  is  Captain  Cock,  of  the 
Civic  Guard." 

"Why  did  they  not  open  the  door?" 

"  They  did,  and  ran  away." 

"Ah,  that  must  be  that  rascal,  Jan.  I  know  he 
is  afraid  of  you.  I  crave  your  pardon.  Will  you 
come  here,  Captain  Cock,  for  I  think  it  may  be 
that  you  wish  to  see  the  sketch  of  the  Civic  Guard 
picture  ?  " 

306 


THE    SOLDIERS   ARE   PAINTED 

"  Yes,  I  came  to  see  it.  Let  me  see  it,  I  am 
hurried  this  afternoon.  I  can  stay  but  a  little 
while,  but  I  wish  to  see  it." 

"  It  is  here,  if  you  will  mount  the  stairs,  and  I 
am  sorry  to  trouble  you." 

"  Oh,  I  care  not  a  whit  for  that.  Soldiers  are  not 
shirkers  in  mounting  stairs,  or  ramparts  either." 

The  captain's  heavy  tread  resounded  through 
the  house  as  he  went  upward,  and  the  frightened 
Jan  slunk  farther  and  farther  away.  He  con 
cealed  himself  in  a  closet  until  the  warrior  had 
gone. 

"  Here  is  the  sketch,  my  lord  captain,  but  I 
wish  you  to  know  it  is  only  a  sketch.  The  real 
work  comes  later,  when  you  and  your  friends  have 
let  me  put  your  portraits  into  the  work." 

"A  sketch !  Call  you  that  a  sketch,  Mynheer 
Rembrandt  ?  Methinks  it  is  what  they  call  a  pict 
ure.  Ah,  I  see,  you  have  not  painted  us  yet;  but 
we  are  there,  and  you  have  put  me  in  the  very 
middle.  Well,  well,  Captain  Cock  will  not  be 
forgotten.  Thanks,  friend  artist.  When  can  I 
come  to  be  painted,  as  you  call  it,  instead  of  being 
sketched  ?  " 

"  Now  !  now  !  if  you  will.     I  am  free  to-day." 

"  Nay,  but  I  said  I  was  hurried,  and  that  is 
true ;  but  it  was  only  that  I  had  to  meet  Heuten- 
burgh,  and  there  were  some  matters  about  the 
Guard  guild-house  that  should  be  taken  care  of. 
Perhaps  you  might  send  that  frightened  varlet, 
if  you  can  find  him,  and  let  him  tell  Heutenburgh 
I  will  come  later — two  hours  later.  Will  that  be 
time  enough  ?  " 

307 


REMBRANDT 

"  Surely  you  do  not  mean,  Captain  Cock,  that 
I  could  finish  your  portrait  in  that  time?" 

"  I  know  not.  How  can  I  know  ?  But  I  want 
to  be  painted  just  there  where  you  have  put  me  in 
your  sketch,  and  quickly  too,  for  I  like  it.  Send 
the  varlet.  Heutenburgh  can  wait  well  enough." 

Thus  it  was  arranged.  The  valiant  captain 
found  posing  for  a  picture  no  easy  matter.  He 
could  scarce  control  his  impatience.  Rembrandt 
worked  with  his  usual  quickness ;  but,  even  for 
him,  it  was  not  possible  to  paint  that  portrait  in 
two  hours.  "  Captain  Cock,  I  have  done  what  I 
can  for  to-day,  but  you  must  come  again  to-mor 
row." 

"  Indeed,  must  I  ?  You  are  somewhat  imperi 
ous,  Mynheer  Rembrandt ;  and  if  you  are  that  way 
with  soldiers  there  might  be  trouble.  I  can't  see 
why  it  takes  so  long  to  paint  that;  and  you  had  it 
all  sketched,  as  you  said  before." 

"  1  beg  you  to  pardon  me,  Captain  Cock,  but 
I  cannot  do  what  you  want  in  so  short  a  time. 
I  have  not  skill  enough,  but  I  will  do  it.  I  know  I 
can  do  it,  if  you  give  me  time  enough." 

"}-Iumph  !  I  will  come  in  the  morning,  and 
please  tell  that  varlet  to  open  the  door  and  not 
run  away,  the  little  fool." 

"  Captain  Cock,  could  you  bring  the  lieutenant 
with  you?  I  would  pose  you  together.  It  would 
be  better." 

"What!  paint  him  with  me?  It  will  take  all 
summer.  You  cannot  finish  one  without  spend 
ing  too  many  hours.  What  can  you  do  with 
two?" 

308 


THE    SOLDIERS   ARE    PAINTED 

"  Pardon.  I  can  paint  the  two  together  better. 
It  would  help  my  work." 

"  Well,  do  you  want  everyone  of  them,  every 
Dutchman  in  the  Guard?  Ah,  ha!  that  would 
be  too  much  for  vou." 

^ 

"  They  must  all  come  sooner  or  later ;  but  only 
you  and  the  lieutenant  to-morrow,  if  it  please  you, 
Captain  Cock." 

In  the  morning  Captain  Cock  and  Lieutenant 
Heutenburgh  appeared  at  the  studio.  The  lieu 
tenant  had  not  seen  the  sketch.  When  he  entered 
the  studio  and  saw  the  great  canvas  he  said : 
"  How  wonderful  !  for  I  really  see  all  those  Dutch 
men  there  that  fought  with  us.  Am  I  there?  Oh, 
yes !  and  next  to  Captain  Cock.  Go  on,  Rem 
brandt!  I  would  be  painted  there.  Yes,  there. 
Did  he  not  say,  go  out  and  find  the  Spaniards, 
and  did  not  we  go  ?  We  went.  We  found  them  ! 
We  killed  them  !  the  scoundrels.  Yes  !  let  me  be 
there  at  the  captain's  side.  Captain,  I  hope  I 
failed  you  not  in  that  action." 

"  Indeed  you  did  not." 

"  I  would  never  fail  you,  if  help  were  in  mine 
hand  to  give.  But,  my  friend  artist,  where  are 
the  others  of  the  company?" 

"  Disturb  yourself  not  at  all.  They  are  all  com 
ing  into  the  picture,  but  I  have  not  yet  had  time 
to  paint  them." 

"  Humph  !  I  think  you  have  not  enough  place 
to  put  them  all  in,  large  as  is  your  sketch.  They 
will  be  angry.  Well,  well,  I  care  not.  Paint  me 
there  beside  our  great  captain.  The  others  must 
take  care  of  themselves. 

309 


REMBRANDT 

"No!  no!  lieutenant,  I  will  get  them  all  into 
the  picture,  but  now  stand  there  if  you  will.  Here 
just  a  little  behind  the  captain.  Ah,  that  is  it. 
Now  let  me  paint,  if  I  can." 

The  artist  went  on,  and  for  a  time  there  was 
perfect  silence  in  the  studio  ;  but  after  an  hour  of 
work  another  member  of  the  Guard  came  in.  He 
was  the  ensign-bearer.  Like  the  others,  he  looked 
in  amazement  on  the  picture.  "  Wonderful  !  most 
wonderful,  Mynheer  Rembrandt.  Yes,  I  remem 
ber,  we  went  out  of  the  guild-house  just  as  you 
have  painted  it.  Ah,  yes !  there  is  the  noble  cap 
tain  and  the  lieutenant,  but  where  am  I  ?  Oh,  I 
see ;  but  surely  there  is  not  enough  space  there  to 
paint  a  man  of  my  size !  I  am  larger  than  the  cap 
tain,  much  larger." 

"  Mynheer  Ensign,  I  beg  of  you  to  let  me  finish 
the  picture.  This  is  but  a  sketch,  except  for  the 
captain  and  the  lieutenant;  I  have  nearly  finished 
their  portraits.  Can  you  wait  for  a  little  while, 
and  I  will  pose  you  directly  behind  them?" 

"  Oh,  very  well,  humph  !  Behind  them  ?  Yes,  I 
see.  I  will  wait,  but  not  too  long,  sir  painter,  for 
it  likes  me  not  at  all  to  be  put  behind  !  nor  likes 
it  me  too  much  to  wait." 

However,  he  did  wait,  and  at  last  Rembrandt 
painted  the  very  life  of  the  man  into  the  great 
picture.  This  he  did  with  all  the  others,  even  if 
only  a  head  appeared.  Each  portrait  was  a  mas 
terpiece,  but  the  Dutchmen  did  not  like  it.  They 
paid  their  money  for  their  portrait,  each  one  of 
them.  Why  put  them  in  the  background  ?  Why 
show  only  a  head,  when  they  had  bodies  too,  of 

310 


THE   SOLDIERS   ARE    PAINTED 

which  they  were  very  proud  ?  One  by  one,  as 
they  came  to  be  painted,  there  was  from  each  a 
word  of  discontent,  and  when  those  farthest  away 
from  the  foreground  had  been  painted  the  mur 
murs  became  open  and  loud  of  fault-finding-. 

Nevertheless,  there  were  many  in  Amsterdam 
who  knew  well  the  picture  was  a  great  one;  but 
these  men  who  thought  themselves  slighted  were 
men  of  influence  and  power  in  the  city.  They 
would  not  be  painted  in  that  way.  No,  indeed. 
What  matter  if  the  picture  was  great,  as  some 
said?  They  would  go  to  Van  der  Heist  and  get 
their  money's  worth  in  full-sized  figures,  and  they 
did.  The  greatest  work  Rembrandt  had  painted 
up  to  this  time  was  the  beginning  of  the  end  of 
his  prosperity.  No  more  commissions  came. 
Many,  who  before  had  been  friendly  with  him, 
spoke  not  to  him  when  they  met  him  on  the  street. 
Another  cause  for  this  was  his  habit  of  home  stay 
ing,  which  grew  upon  him,  do  what  he  would. 
Saskia  was  not  well.  He  adored  her  more  and 
more,  and  wished  to  stay  with  her  always.  Three 
children  had  been  lost  to  them,  and  grief  had  over 
come  the  merry  maiden  whom  the  painter  had 
so  devoutly  loved,  and  did  so  love  even  now. 
Rembrandt's  mother  had  died  but  a  little  time  be 
fore.  There  had  been  much  trouble.  The  paint 
er's  son,  Titus,  was  born  but  a  little  while  before 
the  painting  of  the  Night-Watch ;  and  Titus  was 
to  be  to  Rembrandt  more  than  he  then  knew, 
though  he  took  great  pride  in  his  son  from  the 
day  of  his  birth.  There  were  some  who  stood 
by  Rembrandt.  Jan  Six  remained  his  friend  un- 

3" 


REMBRANDT 

til  the  last  day  of  his  life.  Often  did  he  come  to 
the  studio  to  see  Rembrandt  at  his  work,  and 
often  did  Rembrandt  and  Saskia  go  to  his  home 
and  enjoy  his  genial  hospitality. 

"  Oh,  Rembrandt,"  said  Saskia  one  day,  "  why 
comes  no  one  here  to  the  house?  Why  are  there 
not  the  sitters  as  there  used  to  be?  Oh,  what  is  it, 
my  lord?" 

"  It  is  true,  my  dearest,  and  yet  well  knowest 
thou  that  I  am  painting  and  etching  all  the  time." 

"  Indeed  I  know  it  well ;  but  thy  wife  cannot 
be  always  thy  model.  Why  not  goto  the  asylum, 
and  paint  that  lovely  young  girl  that  you  found 
when  the  Civic  Guard  went  out  against  the  Span 
ish  conspirators?" 


CHAPTER  XXXVIII 

Hendrickje  s  Portrait 

r  I^HE  next  morning  Rembrandt  and  Saskia 
-L  went  together  to  the  asylum.  Hendrickje 
was  better,  owing  to  the  kind  care  of  the  nurses. 
She  was  still  very  sad  ;  but  she  had  yielded  to  her 
fate,  and  no  longer  rebelled  against  it.  It  is  the 
habit  of  the  Dutch  to  becalm  in  misfortune.  This 
morning  Rembrandt  and  Saskia  met  the  Zealand 
maiden  in  the  corridor  of  the  upper  story  of  the 
asylum.  This  corridor  goes  part  way  about  the 
court,  and  the  view  from  it,  looking  as  it  does 
upon  the  great  trees  in  the  court-yard,  is  most 
pleasant.  As  they  came  in,  Hendrickje  was  lean 
ing  out  of  a  window,  looking  at  the  green  leaves 
and  the  grass. 

"  My  own,"  said  Rembrandt,  "  I  will  paint  her 
thus.  She  sees  us  not  nor  hears  as  yet.  Wait; 
let  me  see  the  play  of  light  upon  her  hair  and 
form.  Ah,  that  is  beautiful !  But  I  must  paint  it 
from  below — from  the  court-yard.  Disturb  her 
not  until  I  go  down  again  and  see  her  from  there." 

Saskia  did  not  move.  Hendrickje  still  stood 
by  the  window.  Rembrandt  quickly  found  his 
point  of  view  in  the  court-yard,  but  when  the 
young  girl  saw  him  she  uttered  a  cry  of  joy. 

313 


REMBRANDT 

"  Ah,  there  is  my  saviour!  Without  him  I  would 
have  been  dead." 

Then  Saskia,  who  had  remained  in  the  corridor, 
said:  "Turn  to  me,  sweet  maiden,  for  I  would 
speak  a  word  with  you.  My  husband  would  fain 
paint  a  picture  of  you  just  as  you  stand  there  at 
the  window.  That  is  why  he  went  down  to  the 
court-yard,  that  he  might  find  a  place  where  he 
could  see  you  as  you  are  there  at  the  window  and 
paint  your  portrait.  He  will  make  a  great  pict 
ure.  He  always  does.  Now,  do  not  mind  being 
painted.  It  is  a  little  tiresome  sometimes,  but  it 
is  not  very  bad." 

"  But,  my  frow,  paint  me  ?  Why  would  he 
paint  me?  " 

"  He  paints  all  whose  faces  and  forms  please 
him  ;  but,  afterward,  will  you  come  to  our  house  ? 
For  some  time  have  I  meant  to  ask  whether  you 
would  come  to  us  and  help  in  the  work  of  the 
dining-room  and  the  other  rooms  beside  it." 

"  Would  I  come  ?  Oh,  would  I  come  !  Why 
ask  you,  great  lady  ?  I  am  but  a  simple  peasant 
girl.  Would  I  not  be  glad  to  serve  you  and  him 
in  any  way  ?  I  know  not  whether  I  can  do  what 
you  wish.  Please  tell  me,  fair  lady,  what  is  it?" 

"  Why,  it  is  not  hard  work — just  looking  after 
the  dishes  and  the  flagons  and  the  great  plates, 
and  keeping  all  neat  and  clean,  especially  the 
carved  chairs  and  the  beautiful  pictures." 

"Pictures?  What  are  they?  I  know  not  of 
them  at  all.  Are  they  easily  broken  ?" 

"  Why,  little  maiden,  did  I  not  say  but  now  that 
Rembrandt,  yonder  in  the  court-yard,  was  about 

314 


PORTRAIT   OF   A   GIRL 
(HENDRICKJE) 


HENDRICKJE'S    PORTRAIT 

to  make  a  picture  of  you  ?  Look  at  him.  Soon 
will  you  know  what  pictures  are,  if  you  watch 
him.  There  is  none  other  who  paints  as  he  does. 
Look,  he  is  making  a  sketch  of  you  now.  How 
I  wonder  where  he  found  the  paper;  he  always 
has  crayons  with  him,"  said  Saskia,  laughing  mer 
rily. 

Hendrickje  looked  out  of  the  window  again, 
and  truly  there  was  Rembrandt  looking  at  her. 
As  she  turned  back  from  Saskia  and  went  again 
to  the  window,  her  involuntary  posing  was  what 
the  painter  wanted  always — the  unconsciousness 
of  nature.  He  found  it  here,  and  Hendrickje's  first 
portrait  is  one  of  the  most  beautiful  of  his  works. 
From  the  court-yard  he  called  up  to  her:  "  Move 
not,  I  pray  you  ;  I  would  have  it  thus.  Wait,  I 
beg,  for  a  little  time.  Soon  can  I  make  the 
sketch." 

"  Be  quiet,  Hendrickje,"  whispered  Saskia. 
"  He  will  finish  the  sketch  in  a  few  minutes." 
They  stood  there  at  the  window,  Saskia  behind 
Hendrickje,  Rembrandt  in  the  court-yard  below. 
It  was  not  long  before  the  sketch  was  done,  and 
Rembrandt  turned  from  the  court-yard  to  come 
again  to  the  corridor. 

"Then,  Hendrickje,"  said  Saskia,  "you  will 
come  to  our  home  and  do  what  I  asked  of  you  ?" 

"  Yes,  I  will  come;  but  I  am  afraid  of  that  mas 
ter  there.  Did  I  not  hear  you  call  him  master,  or 
was  it  lord  ?  I  forget,  my  frow." 

"  It  might  have  been  either,  Hendrickje,  for  he 
is  both  to  me  ;  but  be  not  afraid  of  him.  His  heart 
is  as  tender  as  that  of  a  little  child." 

315 


"Yes,  I  will  come.     Can  I  come  with  you  now  ?" 

"  Yes,  yes,  as  soon  as  the  sketch  is  done.  " 

In  a  little  time  the  sketch  was  finished.  Then 
Rembrandt  said  : 

"  Again  must  I  pose  you  there  in  the  window, 
dear  child  ;  but  now  I  have  what  I  need  until  1 
bring  the  colors  here." 

"  Oh,  mistress,  what  means  he  ?  I  must  be 
posed  again.  Does  that  mean  what  I  have  just 
done?  But  I  did  nothing.  Standing  thereby 
the  window,  is  that  what  he  meant?" 

"  Surely,"  said  Saskia;  "  but  come  now,  come  to 
our  home.  We  will  go  together,  for  the  master 
will  not  wish  to  do  more  to-day." 

Rembrandt,  Saskia,  and  Hendrickje  went  from 
the  asylum  to  the  artist's  home.  When  they 
came  there,  Lazarus,  the  Jew,  was  seated  in  the 
high-backed  chair  where  once  he  had  been  before. 
He  was  waiting  for  the  painter.  His  time  was 
coming,  and  well  did  he  know  it.  His  interest,  as 
he  named  it,  was  long  overdue.  It  made  no  odds 
if  he  had  charged  fifty  per  cent.  It  was  not  paid. 
As  Rembrandt  and  his  wife,  with  the  Zealand 
maid,  came  in,  they  almost  stumbled  upon  the  Jew, 
because  the  chair  in  which  he  sat  was  so  near  the 
door. 

Said  Hendrickje  :  "  Oh,  who  is  that  man  ?  I  am 
afraid  of  him."  She  turned  toward  the  door, 
thinking  to  run  away. 

"Come  hither,  Hendrickje,"  said  Saskia.  "  This 
is  a  friend  of  my  master — a  noble  Jew,  by  name 
Lazarus.  He  has  been  our  good  friend.  Fear 
him  not."  But  the  peasant  girl  was  hardly  to  be 

316 


HENDRICKJE'S    PORTRAIT 

persuaded  ;  with  instinctive  aversion  she  shrank 
from  the  Jew,  but  under  Saskia's  gentle  influence 
she  came  at  last  into  the  house. 

"  What  do  you  wish  with  me,  Lazarus?  Why 
wait  you  here  ?  Methinks  it  is  somewhat  unman 
nerly  thus  to  sit  keeping  guard,  as  it  were,  over  my 
own  doorway  in  my  absence." 

"  Your  own  doorway  !  Oh  !  oh  !  have  you 
paid  for  it.  ?  Did  you  pay  for  the  pictures  that 
Lazarus  found  ?  No,  no.  Now,  it  is  time  for 
payment.  Have  you  the  money  ?  " 

"  Lazarus,  this  is  most  unseemly.  My  wife  is 
here  ;  this  young  girl  is  here,  and  she  has  never 
been  in  the  house." 

"  I  am  very  sorry,  but  I  must  have  the  money. 
That  friend  of  mine,  Isaac,  he  let  me  have  much 
of  that  money  that  went  to  buy  those  pictures 
hanging  there.  Look  at  them.  They  are  great 
pictures,  and  you  did  not  pay  for  them.  We 
paid,  Isaac  and  I ;  and  they  cost — ah  !  thousands 
— and  we  want  the  money." 

"  Lazarus,  I  have  it  not  here  at  this  moment ; 
but  surely  I  have  paid  you  enough  for  them." 

"  Oh,  that  was  only  interest.  You  have  not  paid 
one  florin." 

"  Let  me  go  away,  my  frow  Saskia.  I  am  afraid 
of  him,"  said  Hendrickje. 

"  Go  not ;  stay  where  you  are.  Why  should 
one  fear  a  man  like  him  ?  Lazarus,  you  said  you 
were  our  friend." 

"  Your  friend  !  Oh  !  my  lady,  surely  I  have  not 
had  much  speech  before  with  you,  my  frow  Rem 
brandt.  Perhaps  you  know  not  what  the  Jew 


REMBRANDT 

was  doing  who  has  really,  really  been  trying  to 
help  your  fine  artist  husband  there,  but  he  wanted 
to  buy  so  many  things.  Nobody  could  help  such 
a  man." 

"  Hold  your  peace,  Lazarus,  or  there  will  be 
trouble  between  us.  What  is  your  wish?  Are 
you  not  ashamed  to  come  here  in  the  presence  of 
my  wife,  and  even  speak  to  me  of  such  a  thing?" 
said  Rembrandt. 

"  Now,  that  may  be  very  well,  but  I  want  my 
money,  and  Isaac  wants  his  money  ;  and,  worse 
than  that,  he  says  I  have  stolen  it,  and  have  given 
him  no  interest.  Now,  it  must  be  paid.  He  has 
neither  interest  nor  principal,  and  has  waited  long 
enough.  He  must  have  both  of  them." 

"  Oh,  my  frow  Saskia !  Can  I  go  to  some  room 
in  the  house — some  closet,  anywhere — if  only  I  can 
get  away  from  that  man.  A  Jew  !  Oh  !  I  wonder 
what  is  a  Jew?  I  know  none  in  Zealand." 

"  I  know  not  whether  there  are  Jews  in  Zealand. 
But  it  is  not  meet  that  you  should  speak  in  this 
wise,  because  thou  art  in  the  presence  of  a  Jew, 
and  I  fear  me  much  he  hears  what  thou  sayest." 

"  Truly,  my  frow,  I  am  to  blame.  I  hope  the  Jew 
will  do  no  harm.  Oh  !  he  is  still  there  !  I  forgot, 
but  he  did  not  hear  what  I  said  but  now.  Oh,  let 
me  go  away.  I  never  saw  a  Jew  till  now,  but  I 
want  not  to  see  one." 

"  Now,  little  maiden,  come  here  to  the  room 
where  we  dine,  and  I  will  tell  you  of  your  work. 
That  will  be  better.  Rembrandt  and  Mynheer 
Lazarus,  we  leave  you  now ;  for  there  are  some 
matters  that  must  be  quickly  understood  by  this 

318 


HENDRICKJE'S    PORTRAIT 

young   girl,  else  will  she  not  be  able  to  do  the 
work  for  which  she  has  come  here." 

Lazarus  left,  saying  he  would  come  again  on 
the  morrow,  but  the  matter  must  then  be  settled 
in  full.  Rembrandt  went  to  his  easel,  but  Saskia, 
alas  !  went  to  the  bed  from  which  she  was  never  to 
arise  again. 


CHAPTER    XXXIX 

TJic  Death  of  Saskia 

THE  merry  maiden  had  been  greatly  weak 
ened  by  all  her  trials.  The  loss  of  her  chil 
dren  had  nearly  broken  her  heart.  Perhaps  Rem 
brandt  had  asked  too  much  of  her,  in  posing  for 
his  pictures — such  tiring  work — hour  after  hour. 
She  never  thought  of  that.  After  a  few  days  Sas 
kia  sent  for  a  notary.  She  wanted  to  make  her 
will.  Meanwhile  Rembrandt  had  been  making 
etchings  of  her,  as  she  lay  asleep  in  bed ;  and  he 
had  made  etchings  of  Jews  and  beggars  to  amuse 
her.  He  could  not  have  thought  she  was  dying. 
The  notary  came.  The  will  was  made.  All  was 
left  to  Rembrandt,  but  he  was  to  care  for  Titus. 
Saskia  said  in  this  will  that  she  trusted  all  to  her 
husband.  She  knew  he  would  do  what  was  right. 
The  great  love  that  had  been  his  since  first  she 
had  seen  him  was  his  to  the  end.  Not  once  had 
the  wife  faltered  in  devotion  ;  not  once  had  she 
thought  that  Rembrandt  could  fail  in  any  way. 
And  now  the  death-bed  !  The  lovely  woman  was 
passing  from  earth.  She  knew  it,  though  Rem 
brandt  did  not.  Weaker  and  weaker,  fainter  and 
fainter,  she  grew,  in  those  few  days  after  the  will 


was  signed. 


320 


THE    DEATH    OF   SASKIA 

Rembrandt  sat  by  the  bed.  He  made  etchings 
of  her  as  she  lay  there,  half-unconscious. 

"  Saskia,  see  !  That  is  as  thou  seemest  there  in 
the  bed.  Methinks  thou  must  have  been  asleep." 

She  answered  not.  One  of  the  Jews  came  to 
the  house,  and  Rembrandt  said :  "  Sit  there  ;  let 
me  make  an  etching  of  you.  My  wife  is  not  well, 
and  I  would  amuse  her."  It  was  done,  and  Rem 
brandt  took  the  etching  to  Saskia's  death-bed. 
The  tired,  almost  unconscious,  woman  turned  her 
head  to  look  at  it.  To  the  very  last,  one  word  of 
her  master,  her  adored  husband,  would  almost 
bring  her  to  life  again. 

"  What  was  it,  master  ?  oh,  my  master  !  What! 
I  do  not  think  I  see.  Oh  !  what  was  it?  Some 
thing  you  did  for  me  ?  "  The  breath  came  faintly. 
The  words  were  hardly  heard.  "Oh,  oh!  my 
own !  knowest  thou  not  that  I  go  from  thee  now  ?  " 

"What  meanest  thou,  Saskia?" 

"  I  go,  I  go  away  from  thee.  I  am  sorry. 
Longer  would  I  stay  here  with  thee.  What  is  it 
thou  hast  there  ?  Oh  !  a  picture  for  me.  Is  that 
the  last  work  thou  hast  done  for  thy  Saskia?  I 
will  see  it.  I  must  see  it.  I  would  look  on  thy 
work  until  my  eyes  close." 

"  My  own  beloved,  my  treasure,  my  inspiration, 
the  joy,  the  love  of  my  life,  thou  shalt  not  go 
away  from  me." 

"  My  dear  lord,  I  must  go,  and  the  time  is  short ; 
but  soon  will  I  meet  thee  again." 

Her  breath  came  more  and  more  faintly.  There 
was  no  one  in  the  room  but  Rembrandt.  At  last 
he  knew  the  end  had  come.  He  arose  and  went  to 

321 


REMBRANDT 

her.  He  took  her  hand  in  his.  "  My  own!  my  own! 
go  not  away.  I  knew  not  of  it ;  but  Saskia,  my 
beloved,  my  true  wife,  surely  thou  knowest  that  I 
love  thee,  and  that  I  have  always  loved  thee." 

"I  know!  I  know!"  she  murmured,  now  very 
faintly.  "  Thy  love  has  been  my  life.  Oh,  help; 
I  cannot  breathe."  Rembrandt  lifted  her  from 
the  pillow,  but  it  was  too  late.  With  the  one 
word  "Master!"  she  fell  back,  and  lay  in  the 
stillness  of  death.  Rembrandt  could  not  under 
stand.  He  stood  by  the  bed  dazed.  He  passed 
his  hand  over  his  brow,  and  looked  again  at  the 
lovely  face  that  had  blessed  his  home.  "  What 
has  come  to  me?  Saskia  dead  !  Oh,  let  me  die! 
My  own,  my  own,  why  didst  thou  go  away  from 
me?  Is  God  cruel?  Oh!  my  Saskia!  Mine  own 
Saskia!"  He  went  again  to  the  bed,  and  took 
her  hand — now  so  cold — that  had  always  been  so 
warm  for  him.  He  sat  there  holding  the  cold 
hand,  until  he  utterly  forgot  time,  nor  recked  he 
of  it.  Saskia  was  dead.  The  next  morning  the 
little  maid  came  and  timidly  knocked  at  the  door. 
The  knocking  aroused  Rembrandt  from  his  stu 
por.  "  Yes,  come.  Ah,  there  is  Saskia  there  ! 
She  moves  not.  I  know  she  is  dead." 

Then  Hendrickje  said :  "  My  lord,  we  have 
known  long  that  your  wife  had  died,  but  we  dared 
not  come  here.  Now  we  would  come.  Surely 
we  must  take  care  of  the  body." 

"  Oh  !  the  body  !  Her  body  !  Take  care  of  it  ? 
Help  me,  Hendrickje.  I  am  falling." 

It  was  true.  Rembrandt  fell  in  a  swoon  by  the 
body  of  the  wife  whom  he  had  loved  as  never  had 

322 


THE    DEATH    OF   SASKIA 

he  loved  anyone  else  in  the  world.  It  seemed  for 
a  time  that  the  artist  would  go  with  his  wife,  but 
he  did  not.  He  revived  at  last.  Hendrickje  had 
cared  for  him ;  she  had  bathed  his  head,  and  the 
little  Jan  had  done  what  he  could.  But  when 
Rembrandt  was  restored,  his  first  thought  was, 
"  Oh,  Saskia!  that  thou  shouldst  be  taken  away  ! 
Saskia  !  My  Saskia!" 

The  time  for  the  funeral  came,  and  Rembrandt 
followed  the  coffin  to  the  Oude  Kerk.  Among  the 
heroes  of  Holland  was  laid  Saskia.  Rembrandt 
staggered  away  from  the  church.  He  could 
hardly  have  walked  unless  Jan  Six  and  Hendrickje 
had  lent  him  helping  hands.  At  last  he  came  back 
to  the  home.  "  What  is  to  come  now  ?  Why  live  ? 
1  care  not  about  living.  My  Saskia !  I  would  go 
to  thee." 

"  Nay,  Rembrandt,  stay  and  do  thy  work.  Later 
shalt  thou  join  me." 

"Who  said  that?  It  surely  was  Saskia's  voice. 
None  other  could  have  said  it  I  will  work,  then; 
there  is  naught  else  to  do." 

"  My  lord  Rembrandt,  will  it  ease  you  to  take 
something  to  eat  and  to  drink  ?  It  is  not  well  to  be 
without  food  so  long.  Let  me  bring  you  some 
thing.  Hardly  yet  do  I  know  where  all  is  in  the 
great  house,  but  I  think  I  can  find  something." 
And  thus  Hendrickje  helped  him  as  she  could  in 
the  time  of  his  trial. 


323 


CHAPTER  XL 

Albrecht  and  Lazarus 

A  LBRECHT  came  to  the  church,  though  Rem- 
±\.  brandt  knew  not  that  he  was  there.  The 
young  German  dared  not  speak  to  his  friend  in  the 
hour  of  his  great  grief ;  but  the  next  morning  he 
came  to  the  home  of  Rembrandt,  his  heart  over 
flowing  with  tender  sympathy. 

"  Rembrandt,  my  dear  friend,  can  I  help  thee  in 
naught?  I  have  suffered  with  thee." 

"  Albrecht,  I  know  not  whether  anything  can 
help  me.  I  am  cast  down  to  the  very  ground. 
What  can  I  do  ?  Saskia  is  gone." 

"  I  know,  I  know,  dear  friend.  She  is  gone,  and 
I  dared  not  come  to  thee." 

"  Yes,  that  is  well.  I  could  not  hear  the  words 
of  anyone  at' that  time,  even  of  one  as  dear  as  thou 
art  to  me.  Albrecht,  what  is  left?  Oh  !  what  is 
left?  Can  anything  be  left  after  Saskia  is  gone? 
Would  I  were  with  her." 

"  Rembrandt,  I  pray  thee  pause  and  think.  Thou 
hast  yet  thine  art." 

"  Have  I  ?     I  had  not  thought  of  it." 

"But,  my  dear  friend,  you  must  work.  This 
seems  no  word  of  comfort ;  but  perhaps  the  best 
word  I  can  give  from  a  heart  full  of  love  is  that 
still  thou  canst  work,  and  do  something  that  will 

324 


ALBRECHT   AND    LAZARUS 

help  thy  fellow-creatures  here.  I  know  it  is  a 
mystery  ;  I  cannot  see  why  our  best  work 
should  come  through  suffering,  but  I  believe  it 
is  true.  Knowest  thou  not,  dear  friend,  that  I 
am  suffering,  though  little  is  the  work  that  I  have 
done." 

"  Suffering  ?  Thou  meanest  that  thy  love  has 
not  yet  come  to  thee.  Yes!  that  is  suffering." 

"  Rembrandt,  thou  hast  had  thy  love.  Thou 
hast  been  blessed.  Be  comforted.  Go  on.  Do 
what  thou  canst.  Would  that  I  had  my  Hilde- 
garde !  Would  that  I  had  done  any  work  such 
as  thine.  But  no  one  has.  Thou  art  a  prince  in 
thine  art." 

"Albrecht!  truly  dost  thou  comfort  me.  That 
dear  one  who  has  gone  was  the  inspiration  of  my 
art,  if  art  it  is.  She  would  have  me  go  on.  In 
her  spirit  I  will  try ;  but,  oh  !  the  agony  of  parting 
from  her." 

"  I  know,  dear  friend,  but  be  not  dismayed.  Let 
me  help  thee  as  I  can,  for  I  know  thou  needest 
help." 

At  that  moment  came  a  loud  knock  at  the  door. 
Little  Jan  opened  it.  It  was  Lazarus  who  came, 
without  thought  of  the  painter's  sorrow. 

Said  Albrecht :  "  What  does  that  Jew  here 
now  ?  " 

"  I  know  not.  I  cannot  see  him.  Wilt  thou 
speak  to  him,  Albrecht,  and  tell  me  what  he 
wishes  ?  " 

"  That  will  I  do,  and  I  am  glad  to  help  thee.  I 
thought  not  that  I  could  ;  I  will  see  the  Jew." 

Albrecht  went  down  the  stairs  and  found  Laz- 

325 


REMBRANDT 

arus  in  the  hall.  He  had  never  seen  him  before, 
though  he  had  heard  of  him. 

"You  are  Lazarus,  I  am  told.  Rembrandt  is 
in  trouble.  His  wife  is  dead.  He  cannot  see 
you  now." 

"Ah,  wife  is  dead  !  But  there  is  money  I  must 
have,  and  Isaac  too." 

"Who  is  Isaac?" 

"  Oh,  Isaac  is  my  friend.  He  lent  me  money  to 
buy  the  pictures  here  for  that  artist  man,  and  he 
wants  his  money." 

"  Mean  you  that  the  pictures  in  the  house  have 
not  been  paid  for?" 

"  Sure,  nothing  but  interest  have  we  had.  The 
painter  did  pay  some  interest ;  I  will  show  you 
the  account,  if  you  are  his  friend.  Isaac  and  I,  we 
only  want  our  due,  but  that  we  will  have.  He  has 
not  paid  for  the  house,  either.  There  is  a  large 
sum  due  on  it,  and  the  time  has  come  when  we 
can  no  longer  wait.  It  is  years  since  we  let  him 
have  that  money." 

"  I  knew  not  of  this.  It  is  unkind  to  come  here 
now,  Lazarus.  Rembrandt  cannot  see  you  now." 

"  But  I  want  my  money,  and  Isaac  wants  his 
money." 

"  Have  you  no  pity  on  a  man  who  is  suffering?  " 

"  Well,  we  are  suffering  too." 

"  Leave  this  house  instantly,  or  I  will  myself 
force  you  to  go." 

"  You  will?     But  how,  now  ?  " 

"  Jan,  open  that  door  ;  this  Jew  must  go." 

The  trembling  Jan  opened  the  door,  and  Laz 
arus,  under  compulsion  of  the  stern  look  of  the 

326 


ALBRECHT   AND    LAZARUS 

German,  went.  He  turned  once  or  twice  ;  but  he 
dared  not  face  Albrecht,  whose  wrath  made  him 
look  like  one  of  the  Vikings. 

The  little  maid  in  the  dining-room  had  heard 
all  their  words  ;  moreover,  she  knew  of  the  suffer 
ing-  of  Rembrandt,  and  she  knew  he  was  alone. 
"  I  will  help  him,  if  I  can  ;  he  saved  my  life." 
Timidly  she  crept  up  the  stair  and  came  to  the 
room  where  the  stricken  artist  was  sitting.  As 
she  knocked  on  the  door,  Rembrandt  said  :  "  Art 
thou  there,  Albrecht?  What  said  the  Jew  ?" 

"  Nay,  it  is  not  Herr  Albrecht.  It  is  only  Hen- 
drickje;  but  I  knew  you  were  in  trouble  and 
alone.  I  would  love  to  help  you  from  loneliness, 
for  that  is  bad.  I  know.  Oh,  my  father !  oh,  my 
mother — drowned  in  that  awful  night !  And  I 
wished  I  had  been  drowned  too,  but  I  was  not. 
It  would  be  better  to  siy  a  word  to  someone,  and 
not  sit  there  thus.  I  am  afraid." 

"  What  fear  you,  Hendrickje  ?  " 

"  I  am  afraid.  Oh,  I  know  not,  but  people  can 
not  be  alone  in  suffering.  I  have  heard — no,  I  will 
not  say  it." 

"  What  have  you  heard,  little  maiden  ?  " 

"  Must  I  tell  ?  " 

"  Indeed,  yes;  you  could  not  add  to  my  suffer- 

ing." 

"  Well,  then,  I  have  heard  that  some  go  mad— 
I  think  that  is  the  word — if  they  suffer  all  alone." 

"  It  is  true,  Hendrickje  ;  but  it  seems  you  will 
not  let  me  be  alone.  Well,  it  is  better.  I  thank 
you,  little  maiden.  Where  is  Albrecht?  " 

"  Not  yet  has   he    come  from  the  Jew ;  but  I 

327 


REMBRANDT 

think  he  will  be  here  soon,  for  I  heard  him  tell 
the  man  to  go,  and  I  think  he  forced  him  out  of 
the  door." 

At  that  moment  Albrecht  came  again  to  Rem 
brandt's  room.  At  his  knock  on  the  door  Hen- 
drickje  started  up,  and  fled  quickly  to  the  floor 
below. 

"  Rembrandt !  he  was  here — that  Jew,  that  Laz 
arus,"  said  Albrecht  as  he  came  in.  "  What  hast 
thou  done  with  him?  Dear  friend,  art  thou  in  his 
power?" 

"I  think  so;  I  know  not.  I  am  benumbed;  I 
cannot  remember.  His  power,  saidst  thou,  Al 
brecht?  " 

"  Truly,  I  said  that.  What  hold  has  the  Jew 
upon  thee?  Tell  me  quickly,  for  I  fear  there  is 
danger  for  thee  from  him.  My  heart  told  me  that 
when  I  looked  into  his  eyes  and  forced  him  from 
the  door." 

"  Thou  forced  him  from  the  door?" 

"  I  did,  and  I  will  again  if  need  be  ;  but  tell 
me,  how  is  it  thus?  Can  he  do  thee  harm,  dear 
friend?" 

"  Do  me  harm,  thou  sayest.  It  may  be.  I  can 
not  think.  Yes,  it  is  true,  I  have  not  paid  all  for 
the  pictures  and  the  prints.  Thou  saidst  he 
wanted  the  money.  I  have  paid  much,  but  he 
said  it  was  interest.  I  never  thought  about  in 
terest.  I  wonder  now,  dear  Albrecht,  whether  all 
the  money  I  have  given  him  is  only  for  what  he 
calls  interest.  Oh,  Albrecht,  I  fear  indeed  I  am 
in  his  power.  I  have  paid  him  much,  but  I  have 
no  writing  from  him  about  our  affairs.  Woe  is 

328 


ALBRECHT    AND    LAZARUS 

me  !  I  greatly  fear  the  Jew  hath  got  the  better 
of  me." 

"  Greatly  do  I  fear  it,  too.  No  paper,  no  ac 
count,  thou  sayest?" 

"  Nay,  none." 

"Would  that  I  could  help  thee !  dear  friend, 
but  I  know  not  how  to  help.  The  Jew  will  come 
again,  and  much  I  fear  he  will  take  the  pictures 
and  the  prints  and  sell  them." 

"  Take  my  pictures  !  Take  my  prints  !  He  may 
have  them.  Saskia  is  gone.  There  is  no  help. 
What  matters  anything  ?  Albrecht,  I  am  tired. 
Leave  me.  I  thank  you  for  your  love ;  but  I  can 
neither  see  nor  hear,  nor  can  I  think.  Let  me 
rest.  Let  me  forget,  if  I  can." 

"  It  would  be  well  for  thee  to  rest.  I  will  go 
now,  and  send  to  thee  the  little  maiden  whom  I 
saw  below.  She  will  prepare  for  thee  thy  bed. 
Then  lie  down  and  sleep,  and  may  God  help  thee 
in  thy  trouble! " 

Albrecht  went,  and,  finding  Hendrickje  still 
trembling  and  afraid,  told  her  to  go  to  Rem 
brandt,  and  do  for  him  what  was  needed. 

"  Yes!  I  will  go,  but  I  am  so  afraid  of  the  Jew. 
Oh  !  will  he  come  again  ?  " 

"  It  may  be.  I  hope  not ;  but  go  and  do  what  is 
needed  for  the  great  master.  He  suffers  so  much 
that  I  fear  he  may  die.  Do  your  best  for  him." 

"  I  will.  You  are  a  kind  friend.  The  master 
loves  you,  I  think." 

"  I  hope  he  does ;  but  go  and  help  him.  Stay  here 
not  one  moment  more." 

Albrecht  left  the  house,  and  went  directly  to 

329 


REMBRANDT 

the  Jew's  home,  to  see  if  aught  could  be  done  to 
avert  the  impending  catastrophe. 

Hendrickje  went  up  to  the  room  where  Rem 
brandt  was  now  sitting  in  one  of  the  high-backed 
chairs  that  he  loved,  but  he  had  nearly  fallen  from 
it.  He  was  half-stupefied,  and  his  head  sank  to 
one  side.  Hendrickje  ran  toward  him.  She  lilt 
ed  the  half-fallen  head.  She  bathed  it  with  cold 
water. 

"  Who  is  it  that  does  this  for  me?"  said  Rem 
brandt.  "Oh!  is  it  indeed  thee,  little  maiden? 
That  is  kind,  that  is  sweet.  I  thought  I  might 
die." 

Now,  Hendrickje's  courage  and  her  devotion  to 
the  man  who  had  saved  her  life  impelled  her  to 
save  his,  if  she  could.  All  timidity,  all  fear,  had 
gone.  With  the  ardor  of  a  new-born  love,  she  ca 
ressed  him,  she  soothed  him.  At  last,  beneath  her 
gentle  touch,  he  revived  so  much  that,  with  the 
help  of  Hendrickje's  arms  about  him,  he  came  to 
the  bed,  and  seemed  about  to  sink  into  a  peaceful 
sleep." 

"  I  will  leave  him  now.  I  love  him,  I  love  him; 
I  am  all  his.  I  wonder  if  I  can  help  him.  What 
he  asks  of  me  will  I  do.  Would  I  could  do  more. 
All  would  not  be  enough  for  such  a  man,  and  he 
suffers.  My  God,  why  does  he  suffer  ?  He  is  too 
great  to  suffer.  I  know  not,  I  am  only  a  simple 
peasant;  but  I  know  he  is  great,  and  I  know  1  love 
him." 


330 


CHAPTER   XLI 

AlbrccJit  is  Happy  at  Last 

THERE  was  a  little  time  before  the  Jew  came 
to  Rembrandt's  house.  He  was  afraid  of 
Albrecht,  whose  loyalty  to  his  friend  made  him 
dangerous  if  anything  threatened  Rembrandt. 
This  loyalty  of  the  German  had  awakened  in  him 
a  new  feeling.  Even  his  love  had  not  thus  in 
spired  him.  He  was  ready  to  give  his  life  either 
for  Rembrandt  or  Hildegarde.  Albrecht  had 
gone  direct  to  the  Jew's,  and  told  him  in  the 
plainest  language  what  he  thought  of  him.  Laz 
arus  cared  not.  Now  he  was  bent  on  his  money. 
The  time  had  come  to  reap  his  harvest;  but  the 
stern  aspect  of  Albrecht,  and  his  demand  for  a 
stated  account,  held  back  the  Jew  for  awhile. 
Albrecht  left  his  house  and  went  toward  the  place 
where  Hildegarde  lived.  He  always  went  there 
every  evening  ;  but  he  did  not  enter,  for  he  felt  he 
was  not  wanted.  In  the  houses  of  Amsterdam 
there  is  a  curious  machine  for  lifting  what  is 
needed  into  the  attic  story.  A  strong  beam  pro 
jects  from  the  middle  of  the  gable.  Underneath 
it  is  a  door  which  opens  to  the  attic.  From  the 
street,  or  the  canal,  to  the  upper  story  of  the 
houses  what  was  needed  was  hoisted  up,  and  it  is 
done  in  the  same  way  to-day.  As  Albrecht  neared 

331 


REMBRANDT 

the  lodging  of  Hildegarde,  he  chanced  to  see,  on 
the  other  side  of  the  street,  some  men  who  were 
hoisting  an  unusually  large  bale  of  goods,  that 
doubtless  had  come  from  the  Indies.  He  watched 
with  some  interest,  for  it  seemed  impossible  that 
so  large  a  bale  could  go  into  that  attic  door.  It 
was  not  wide  enough.  Albrecht  stepped  across 
the  street,  not  knowing  that  Hildegarde  was 
watching  him  from  her  window.  The  German 
became  interested.  "  Careful,  now  ;  surely  you 
cannot  get  that  in  there.  Careful,  I  say."  At 
that  moment  a  little  boy,  attracted  by  curiosity, 
came  and  stood  directly  underneath  the  swaying 
bale,  looking  up  at  it,  wondering  whether  or  not 
it  would  fall.  Albrecht  saw  it  was  about  to  fall. 
He  knew  the  child  would  be  killed  if  it  fell  upon 
him.  With  a  leap  he  reached  the  boy.  He  threw 
himself  upon  him  and  forced  him  away.  In  a 
quarter  of  a  second,  down  came  the  bale,  which 
had  broken  the  rope  at  the  attic  door.  The  child 
was  saved  because  of  Albrecht's  quickness  and 
bravery,  but  Albrecht  himself  was  not  saved  alto 
gether:  for  the  bale  fell  upon  his  leg  and  badly 
crushed  it.  He  lay  there — the  child  in  his  arms. 
Hildegarde  cried  :  "  Come,  Wilhelm  !  Come, 
Marjorie !  Let  us  help.  Quick !  Quick !  Sec 
you  not  the  brave  man  yonder?  He  nearly  was 
killed,  but  he  saved  a  life.  Let  us  help.  Quick ! 
I  say  !  Why  are  you  so  slow?" 

They  went  across  the  street,  and  it  was  not  too 
soon.  Albrecht  was  in  a  dead  faint,  because  of 
the  terrible  pain  from  the  crushing  blow. 

"  Take  the  child,  Marjorie.  What  can  I  do  with 
332 


ALBRECHT    IS    HAPPY    AT    LAST 

him?  I  know  not.  I  dare  not  touch  him,  for  I 
am  afraid  of  my  own  heart.  Hildegarde !  thou 
art  conquered,  much  fear  I ;  for  well  thou  knowest 
he  loves  thee,  and  perhaps  I  love  him,  but  I  must 
save  him.  It  matters  not.  He  is  a  hero.  I  am 
willing-  to  be  conquered.  Help  me !  Wilhelm  ! 
Lift  him  there,  just  in  the  middle  of  the  back.  I 
will  take  his  head."  This  was  done.  The  beau 
tiful  girl  knew  she  had  in  her  arms  her  lover's 
head,  but  she  feared  he  would  die.  The  shock 
had  been  a  terrible  one.  It  might  be  that  the  leg 
on  which  fell  the  bale  would  have  to  be  cut  off. 
"  Wilhelm,  run  for  Dr.  Tulp  !  I  would  have  him 
here  instantly."  It  was  long  before  the  doctor 
came,  because  of  another  lesson  in  anatomy  that 
he  was  giving  at  the  meat  market.  Albrecht  still 
lay  in  a  faint.  They  had  laid  him  on  the  bed  in 
Marjorie's  room,  and  Hildegarde  was  by  his  side. 
"  Bring  water,  Marjorie,  cool  water."  Tremblingly 
the  brave  Nuremberg  maiden  stroked  the  brow 
of  the  man  she  had  learned  to  love.  At  last  Al 
brecht  opened  his  eyes.  He  had  revived,  though 
he  was  still  in  great  pain.  Hildegarde's  face  was 
just  above  his  own,  and  her  hand  was  stroking 
his  brow.  The  beautiful  face,  the  brown  eyes,  the 
clustering  curls,  there  they  were.  Even  the  love 
ly  red  lips  were  not  far  from  his. 

"  Am  I  dreaming  ?  Nay  !  that  is  my  own  angel, 
and  she  is  trying  to  help  me.  She  never  did  that 
before.  I  wonder  why  !  Oh,  it  is  because  I  am 
in  pain !  There  can  be  no  other  reason.  But 
she  is  there,  and  I  am  in  heaven.  I  care  not  for 
the  pain." 

333 


REMBRANDT 

Still  only  half  himself,  Albrecht  murmured  these 
words.  Hildegarde  heard  them.  Her  quick-beat 
ing  heart  beat  still  more  quickly.  It  was  her  lover 
talking  thus,  and  he  was  a  brave  man  and  a  true 
one. 

"  I  wonder  I  knew  not  that  he  loved  me  thus. 
Perhaps  I  did  know  something  of  it,  but  not  much. 
I  would  not  let  him  talk  to  me,  because  I  was  mor 
tified.  I  was  to  blame.  No  matter,  he  shall  talk 
to  me  now,  if  he  will.  May  God  grant  he  will  ! 
Where  is  the  doctor  ?  Can  there  be  no  help  ?  He 
may  die.  He  shall  not.  I  will  save  him  myself, 
if  the  doctor  comes  not." 

But  Dr.  Tulp  did  come,  and  with  his  usual 
grave  dignity  said:  "  What  is  needed  of  me?  1 
am  told  there  has  been  an  accident.  Where  is 
the  one  who  has  been  hurt  ?" 

"Oh,  doctor!  Come!  Please  come  quickly! 
He  is  here.  He  nearly  was  killed  in  saving  a 
little  boy." 

"I  am  quite  ready  to  come,  but  where  is  he? 
It  might  be  well  that  I  should  see  him  instantly.'' 

"  1  know.  He  is  here  on  the  bed.  Come."  Hilde 
garde  led  the  great  surgeon  of  Amsterdam  to  Al- 
brecht's  bedside.  The  German,  though  revived, 
was  still  suffering  intense  pain  from  the  nearly 
fractured  leg.  Was  it  fractured?  That  was  for 
Dr.  Tulp  to  tell. 

"Let  me  look  at  once.  Ah,  yes!  Something 
must  have  fallen  on  this.  Let  me  see."  As  the 
doctor,  with  his  touch  of  knowledge,  examined 
the  wounded  limb,  Aibrecht  groaned,  and  he  said, 
half-unconscious : 

334 


ALBRECHT   IS   HAPPY   AT   LAST 

"  Oh,  where  is  that  angel  that  cared  for  me 
before  ?  " 

Hildegarde,  without  thought,  for  once  carried 
away  from  herself,  cried  aloud,  "  I  am  here !  Sure 
ly  I  am  here ;  but  I  am  no  angel.  I  only  want 
thee  to  live." 

"  Yes !  I  will  live.  I  will  live  for  thee.  What 
is  the  doctor  doing?" 

"  Oh  !  I  know  not.   Help  him,  doctor !  if  you  can." 

"  I  will  do  my  best.  Help  can  be  given  here. 
The  first  thing  to  do  is  to  set  this  leg  in  place. 
It  is  broken  just  below  the  knee.  Is  there  anyone 
who  can  help  me  to  hold  it  while  I  put  on  the 
splints  which  are  needed  ?  " 

"Surely!  Surely!  Wilhelm  !  come  here,  and 
help  the  doctor.  Come  quickly." 

"  I  come;  what  am  I  to  do?"  said  the  faithful 
servant. 

"  Help  the  doctor ;  that  is  what  you  are  to  do, 
and  be  quick  about  it." 

"  I  will  do  my  best,  my  lady,  though  I  know 
but  little  about  such  things." 

With  Wilhelm's  help  the  crushed  limb,  also 
fractured,  was  at  last  cared  for  ;  and  Albrecht, 
who  had  suffered  the  pain  of  the  setting  together 
of  the  bones  without  a  word,  lay  back  on  the  bed 
exhausted. 

"Will  he  live,  doctor?  Will  he  live?"  said 
Hildegarde. 

"  Calm  yourself,  young  maiden.  Methinks  you 
are  somewhat  excited.  Yes  !  he  will  live;  but  he 
might  not  have  lived  unless  such  care  as  was 
needed  had  been  given." 

335 


REMBRANDT 

"He  will  live?" 

"  Why  ask  you  that  ?     Have  I  not  said  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes,  he  will !  I  know  it.  I  thank  you,  Dr. 
Tulp." 

"Young  lady,  I  am  glad  to  have  been  of  service 
to  you.  What  the  young  man  needs  now  is  care 
and  the  best  of  nursing.  That,  I  am  sure,  he  will 
have.  I  will  come  again  on  the  morrow,  to  look 
to  the  bandages  and  splints.  Farewell  for  the 
time." 

"  Farewell,  Dr.  Tulp."  The  grave  doctor  left 
the  house.  Hildegarde  flew  back  to  the  bedside. 
"  He  must  have  careful  nursing,  said  the  great 
man.  Have  it  he  shall.  I  will  be  his  nurse." 

Little  Albrecht  cared  for  the  pain,  as  Hildegarde 
sat  by  him,  and  soothed  him,  and  ministered  to 
him  with  the  gentleness  of  a  true  woman.  Even 
then  they  were  betrothed.  Both  knew  it,  though 
there  had  been  no  spoken  words  of  love. 


336 


CHAPTER  XLII 

The  Inventory  is  Made 

A  LBRECHT  could  no  longer  interfere.  Laz- 
JL\.  arus  heard  of  his  trouble,  and  exulted  in  his 
mind.  "  Now  I  will  seek  Isaac."  He  went  to  the 
house  of  his  friend. 

"  Well,  what  is  it  Lazarus ;  have  you  got  good 
news  ?  It  is  time  we  had  that  money." 

"  Now,  Isaac,  give  me  all  the  papers  you  had 
from  me.  I  go  to  sell  out  that  Rembrandt.  I 
take  with  me  the  man  that  owns  that  house.  It  is 
only  half-paid  for.  Isaac,  my  friend,  I  tell  you  I 
sell  him  out  entirely.  There  will  not  be  one  thing 
left.  But,  Isaac,  it  is  almost  a  pity  that  we  charged 
all  up  he  paid  as  interest;  for  it  is  true  that  what 
he  paid  was  enough  for  the  pictures.  But  he  did 
not  pay  for  the  house." 

"  Never  mind  what  he  paid,  Lazarus.  Get  me 
back  my  moneys.  You  know  you  said  fifty  per 
cent." 

"  Yes,  I  did,  you  old  usurer.  Sometimes  my 
heart  misgives  me  about  this  matter,  but  the 
man  must  pay.  He  had  his  pictures,  his  prints, 
his  house.  Who  but  the  Jew  Lazarus  helped  him 
to  those?  He  must  pay." 

"  Surely,  surely,  Lazarus,  and  quickly,  too. 
Mine  coffer  is  empty.  I  must  have  the  gold." 

337 


REMBRANDT 

"  You  shall  have  it,  Isaac.  I  sell  him  oiit  at 
once.  I  must  go  to  the  town-hall  and  show  the 
papers.  There  get  I  an  officer  who  will  sell  out 
all  he  has  ;  but  it  is  a  pity." 

"  It  is  no  pity.  Make  him  pay.  Go  quickly, 
Lazarus,  my  friend." 

Lazarus  went  to  the  town-hall.  He  found  the 
notary.  "  I  have  accounts  to  settle  with  that 
painter,  Rembrandt.  He  has  not  paid  me  my 
debt." 

"  Let  me  see  your  papers." 

"  Here  they  are."  Lazarus  brought  out  the  ac 
counts,  which  he  had  himself  made,  and  the  no 
tary  began  to  look  them  over. 

"  Humph !  yes,  I  suppose  that  is  right,  as  you 
Jews  make  accounts;  but  it  is  not  enough.  If  this 
is  all  the  indebtedness,  I  will  not  proceed  against 
him." 

"  But  it  is  not  all.  There  is  the  mortgage  on 
the  house.  It  is  only  one-half  paid." 

"  Where  are  your  papers  about  that  ?  " 

"  I  have  them  not  here,  but  I  will  go  seek  them." 

"  It  would  be  better  that  you  did,  if  you  mean 
me  to  sell  at  auction  a  man's  house,  and  all  in  it. 
Is  that  what  you  meant?  I  can  hardly  believe 
that  such  a  course  could  be  taken  against  so  great 
a  man  as  Rembrandt." 

"  Well !  I  did  mean  that.  He  has  not  paid.  I 
will  go  find  the  owner  of  the  house  that  is  not  paid 
for." 

Somewhat  crestfallen,  Lazarus  left  the  notary's 
office,  and  sought  the  man  of  whom  he  had  bought 
the  house  for  Rembrandt.  It  was  true  the  money 

338 


THE    INVENTORY   IS    MADE 

was  overdue.  Lazarus  told  the  man  who  held  the 
mortgage  that  he  would  be  ruined  if  he  did  not  at 
once  sell  out  the  house.  "  Why,  I  have  so  much 
money  due  me  there  that  I  will  sell  out  all  that  is 
inside.  I  cannot  sell  the  house  ;  but  it  is  better  you 
join  me,  else  you  lose  much.  Come  to  the  notary 
with  me." 

"  Ah,  I  fear  I  must.  Rembrandt  is  in  the  Jew's 
hands.  He  cannot  help  himself,  and  I  must  not 
lose  my  money." 

It  was  quickly  arranged.  When  the  notary  saw 
the  papers,  showing  the  payment  on  the  mortgage 
overdue,  he  was  obliged  to  proceed. 

"  Mynheer  Notary,  how  soon  can  you  send  those 
officers  there  to  make  this  sale?" 

"  I  will  send  them  to-morrow  to  make  an  inven 
tory  of  what  is  in  the  house.  That  must  first  be 
done.  The  sale  will  come  later,  after  due  notice 
is  given." 

"To-morrow,  you  say?  All  right.  I  wait;  but 
be  quick,  because  my  friend  Isaac  wants  his 
money." 

"  The  inventory  shall  be  done  to-morrow." 

The  next  day  the  officer  came  to  make  the  in 
ventory.  Rembrandt  was  simply  dazed  when 
they  entered  his  house.  He  had  suffered  much 
already.  The  beloved  Saskia  was  gone.  The 
people  of  Amsterdam  no  longer  cared  about  him. 
They  came  no  more  for  their  portraits.  What 
was  it  that  had  happened  ?  These  officers  seemed 
to  him  unreal.  He  could  not  believe  that  it  was 
possible  to  sell  those  works  cf  art  so  dear  to  him. 
and  that  loved  home  in  which  Saskia  had  lived. 

339 


REMBRANDT 

The  officers  asked  of  Rembrandt  about  the  pict 
ures,  and  the  prints,  and  the  furniture,  and  what 
he  had  paid  for  them. 

"  I  know  not  what  I  paid,  but  well  I  know  I 
paid  not  their  worth.  They  are  far  more  valua 
ble  than  the  sum  the  Jew  would  put  upon  them. 
Well  know  I  that  now,  but  I  thought  not  of  it  be 
fore.  I  have  played  the  fool,  and  now  do  I  find 
what  that  means." 

"  That  is  very  well,  but  you  tell  us  not  the  price 
you  paid." 

"  I  told  you  I  know  it  not." 

"  Then  we  must  make  the  inventory  ourselves." 

Rembrandt  wandered  from  room  to  room  be 
hind  the  officers.  They  went  to  Saskia's  room — 
to  his  own  studio — to  the  rooms  where  the  stu 
dents  had  painted.  They  went  to  the  dining-room 
where  he  had  sat  with  Saskia,  and  where  he  had 
so  often  etched  her.  It  was  a  desecration  !  It  was 
a  horror  !  The  artist  thought  he  would  go  mad, 
but  there  was  no  help.  Yes !  there  was  a  little 
help.  The  peasant  girl  had  known  of  this.  Her 
adoration  of  the  master  had  taught  her  of  his  suf 
fering,  though  little  she  knew  why  he  suffered. 
At  last  she  saw  him  almost  staggering  in  the  room 
he  loved  the  most.  She  came  to  him  and  took  his 
hand,  saying  :  "  Come  !  my  lord  !  this  is  too  pain 
ful  for  thee.  Come  away,  until  these  men  have 
done  this  dreadful  thing.  Come  !  I  say,  for  I  see 
it  is  more  than  is  possible  for  you  to  suffer." 

Hendrickje  led  him  to  a  little  room  on  the  sec 
ond  story,  of  which  the  officers  had  already  made 
the  inventory.  It  was  one  of  Rembrandt's  favor- 

340 


THE    INVENTORY    IS    MADE 

ite  rooms.  He  sat  down  in  one  of  the  great  chairs, 
and  said  :  "  Why  care  you  so  much  for  me  ?  All 
is  gone?  I  am  lost!  " 

"  Nay,  my  lord,  it  is  not  so.  There  are  those 
who  love  you.  Think  of  Jan  Six.  Think  of  Al- 
brecht  von  Stoltzing.  May  poor  Hendrickje  help 
a  little?" 

"  Surely,  surely,  if  there  is  help,  thou  givest  it, 
little  maiden." 

"  Can  I  indeed  help  the  great  master  ?  I  would 
give  my  life  to  help  him.  He  saved  it,  and  it 
is  his." 

"  If  anyone  loves  me,  it  helps ;  but  now  it  seems 
as  if  all  had  deserted  me,  yet  you  spoke  of  Jan 
Six  and  Albrecht.  It  may  be  they  love  me  still. 
My  heart  is  sad  and  bitter.  I  cannot  believe  that 
anyone  loves  me,  or  could  love  me ;  yet  I  feel  that 
thou  dost  love  me,  for  thy  sympathy  has  won  my 
heart." 

"  Indeed  I  do."  Rembrandt  rose  from  the 
chair  and  went  to  the  young  girl.  He  folded  her 
in  his  arms  and  kissed  her.  She  embraced  him, 
too,  and  returned  his  kiss;  for  young  as  she  was, 
she  had  already  loved  him  long.  Even  in  the 
midst  of  this  tragedy  it  was  the  height  of  her  hap 
piness  to  love  him,  and  help  him,  and  to  know  that 
he  would  accept  her  help  and  her  love. 

"  Come,  my  lord,  there  is  no  longer  need  to 
stay  here.  I  heard  those  officers  go.  They  must 
have  done  the  dreadful  thing  they  came  to  do." 

"  It  is  only  the  beginning,  Hendrickje.  They 
have  numbered  and  valued,  and  afterward  they 
will  sell,  and  the  Jews  will  buy.  My  God.'  what 

341 


REMBRANDT 

have  I  done  that  I  should  deserve  this?  But  I 
will  go  down  again.  I  would  see  my  home  once 
more  before  it  is  despoiled." 

They  went  down  together,  the  strong  peasant 
girl  half-supporting  the  painter,  who  was  quite 
weak  from  emotion.  They  went  to  the  dining- 
room  and  there  sat  down.  Hendrickje  brought 
wine,  and  he  took  some  of  it,  and  was  a  little  re 
freshed.  It  was  the  room  where  he  had  sat  even 
ing  after  evening  with  Saskia  among  his  art  treas 
ures,  and  painted  her,  and  sometimes  stopped  to 
look  at  the  works  of  great  men  all  about  him.  The 
officers  had  put  labels  on  every  picture,  even  his 
own,  every  chair,  every  Delft  plate,  and  flagon, 
every  silver  drinking-horn,  every  lovely  delicate 
glass  from  Venice.  All  were  numbered  and 
valued.  Rembrandt  shuddered  and  grew  very 
pale.  Even  the  wine  which  Hendrickje  had 
brought  him  hardly  kept  him  from  fainting. 

"  My  lord !  be  not  so  dismayed.  Ah !  it  is 
dreadful !  but  we  will  care  for  thee  ;  and  thou  hast 
Titus  too,  and  he  will  grow  to  be  a  good  and  help 
ful  son.  I  know  it." 

At  that  moment  the  lad  came  in.  He  looked 
at  his  father  in  a  bewildered  way,  not  knowing 
what  ailed  him,  but  feeling  something  was  wrong  ; 
then  going  straight  to  him,  he  put  his  arms  about 
his  neck  and  kissed  him. 

"  Oh,  my  son,  I  thank  thee.  I  will  not  give  way 
utterly.  I  will  live  for  thee,  and  for  this  maiden 
here,  who  says  she  loves  me." 

"  Why  !  everybody  loves  thee,  father  !  Who 
said  anyone  did  not  love  thee  ?  " 

342 


THE    INVENTORY    IS    MADE 

"  It  was  I  said  it,  my  lad,  but  it  may  not  be  true. 
I  know  it  is  not  true,  for  here  are  two  who  love 
me.  That  is  enough.  I  will  not  lose  heart  utterly. 
Go  now,  my  son.  Hendrickje,  I  must  eat  some 
thing  more  ;  for  much  I  fear  I  shall  fail  in  the  great 
strain  of  the  sale,  unless  I  keep  up  my  strength. 
I  must  be  here,  Hendrickje,  you  know.  I  must 
watch  the  Jews  as  they  sell  my  house,  and  I  must 
be  strong.  I  will  not  yield  in  the  face  of  those 
villains." 

"  It  is  well,  my  lord.  I  will  provide  the  meal. 
Rest  quiet  there." 

Hendrickje  served  him  as  she  had  been  wont 
to  do,  scarce  daring  to  think  of  the  tender  scene 
that  had  passed  between  them.  Nor  did  Rem 
brandt  think  of  it,  for  his  mind  was  wholly  on  the 
impending  sale.  The  labels  were  all  about  him 
as  he  sat  at  his  table.  He  could  think  of  naught 
else,  but  the  pride  in  him  had  been  aroused.  He 
would  strengthen  himself.  He  would  show  a  bold 
front  to  his  persecutors.  He  knew  he  was  beyond 
help ;  and  he  knew,  in  part,  that  it  was  his  own 
fault.  If  he  had  listened  to  Saskia,  he  would  not 
have  had  so  many  works  of  art ;  but  the  Jew  was 
also  at  fault. 

"  Ha,  by  my  faith,  he  is  a  villain.  Why  found 
I  that  not  out  before  ?  He  has  robbed  me.  I  am 
a  fool.  I  had  not  the  account ;  I  trusted  the  Jew, 
and  he  is  a  most  abominable  scoundrel.  Would 
I  had  left  the  matter  to  Albrecht !  or  even  to 
Hendrik  !  but,  alas !  it  is  too  late  now.  There  is 
no  help." 


343 


CHAPTER   XLIII 

Home  Sold  at  Auction 


A  FEW  days  later,  after  the  notices  had  been 
duly  given,  as  the  notary  had  said,  the 
officers  came,  and  the  Jew  was  close  behind  them. 
Hendrik  came,  and  Jan  Six,  both  with  sad  faces. 
There  came  also  those  who  had  deserted  Rem 
brandt.  All  his  enemies  were  there  ;  and  there 
came  many  strangers,  attracted  by  the  notices 
which  had  been  posted  about  the  town.  The  house 
was  full.  When  Rembrandt  came  from  his  room, 
pale,  but  apparently  quite  calm,  he  could  scarce 
force  his  way  through  the  crowd.  He  meant  to 
go  to  the  dining-room,  for  there  the  auctioneer 
had  placed  his  desk  on  the  dining-table,  just  at  the 
place  where  Saskia  had  been  wont  to  put  her 
plate  ;  and  behind  the  auctioneer  already  sat  Laz 
arus.  There  was  a  big  book  on  the  table,  in  which 
to  record  the  bids.  The  holder  of  the  mortgage 
on  Saskia's  home  sat  behind  the  Jew.  At  last 
Rembrandt  forced  his  way  in  and  took  his  seat  at 
the  other  end  of  the  table,  where  he  had  sat  when 
he  was  etching  Saskia. 

Just  at  that  moment  Hendrik  forced  his  way 
through  the  crowd  and  came  to  Rembrandt's 
side. 

"  Ah,  cousin,  this  is  a  sad  day,  but  Hendrik  will 

344 


THE    HOME   SOLD   AT   AUCTION 

help  all  he  can.  His  purse  is  not  long,  but  he  will 
use  all  there  is  in  it." 

"  Thanks,  kind  Hendrik,  but  speak  not  to  me. 
I  would  not  be  overpowered  here  in  the  presence 
of  these  Jews  who  have  robbed  me." 

"  I  know,  I  know,  Cousin  Rembrandt,  but  they 
shall  not  have  all.  Hendrik  can  save  something, 
and  he  will ;  and  he  spared  the  Rhine  wine  to-day 
that  his  head  might  be  clear.  Be  brave,  cousin- 
All  is  not  yet  lost." 

There  was  some  comfort  for  the  artist,  even  at 
this  hour,  in  the  words  of  his  blunt,  but  kind- 
hearted  cousin. 

It  was  now  the  hour  for  the  sale.  First  the 
house  was  offered  by  the  auctioneer.  Rembrandt 
quivered  from  head  to  foot.  His  home  and  Sas- 
kia's  under  the  hammer ! 

"Shame!  shame  on  me!  it  is  my  own  fault! 
Oh,  Saskia  !  my  darling!  I  am  glad  thou  didst  not 
see  this  day !  It  broke  my  heart  when  thou  didst 
go  away,  but  it  would  have  been  far  worse  to  be 
shamed  before  thee."  Rembrandt  muttered  these 
words  almost  aloud.  Hendrik  caught  a  few  of 
them  and  laid  his  hand  on  Rembrandt's  arm. 

"Now,  quiet!  I  pray  thee,  cousin.  What  is 
done  cannot  be  undone.  Would  I  could  buy  the 
house.  I  would  give  it  thee  back,  but  that  is  be 
yond  me." 

The  artist  sank  back  in  his  chair  again,  still 
quivering,  as  bid  after  bid  was  noted.  The  Jew 
made  no  bid,  because  already  the  price  was  too 
high  for  him.  He  would  make  his  money  on  the 
pictures.  He  had  already  his  double  commission 

345 


REMBRANDT 

on  the  purchase  of  the  house.  The  bidding  went 
on  for  a  long  time — an  age,  it  seemed  to  Rem 
brandt.  He  who  bought  it  on  the  highest  bid  was 
unable  to  make  good  the  sum  he  had  offered.  All 
had  to  be  done  over  again,  and  the  agony  was 
prolonged.  At  last  it  was  over,  and  the  home  be 
longed  to  another.  He  who  was  sitting  at  the 
table  there  had  no  longer  a  right  to  his  place.  At 
the  bidding  of  the  owner  he  must  go  out  into  the 
street,  but  not  yet !  oh  !  not  yet !  Surely  some  of 
the  treasures  could  be  kept.  Not  all  that  he  had 
loved  and  lived  with  was  to  go  at  once.  It  could 
not  be.  A  deadly  pallor  overspread  Rembrandt's 
face.  Nearly  he  fainted  ;  but  by  a  strong  effort  he 
rallied,  helped  also  by  excitement  about  the  sale 
of  the  pictures. 

"  Hendrik,  I  pray,  bid  for  the  Rubens.  It  is  a 
glorious  picture." 

"  I  know,  cousin,  but  I  fear  it  is  too  dear  for  me  ; 
but  Hendrik  will  try." 

The  Rubens  was  offered,  and  the  Jew  who  had 
sold  it  to  Rembrandt  made  a  bid  of  one-quarter 
of  the  price  he  had  received  for  it. 

Rembrandt  started  up  in  his  chair,  flushed  in 
stantly  from  rage.  "  Scoundrel !  you  know  what 
I  paid  you  for  it !  How  dare  you,  you  infernal 
scoundrel?" 

"  Would  it  please  the  officer  to  keep  silence  in 
this  room?  I  know  not  what  says  that  man.  You 
offer  a  picture  for  sale,  I  bid  a  price.  It  is  my 
right.  Keep  that  man  quiet.  He  might  do  a 
harm.  He  has  lost  his  wits,  I  think." 

"  Alas,  you  are  in  the  right,"  said  the  officer. 
346 


THE   HOME    SOLD   AT   AUCTION 

"  There  must  be  quiet  here  while  the  sale  goes 
on." 

"  But  the  scoundrel  sold  me  the  picture  !  He 
has  had  already  more  than  he  bid  for  it.  What 
insult !  What  shame  !  thus  to  treat  great  works 
of  art ! " 

"  There  must  be  quiet  here,  and  the  sale  must 
go  on.  It  would  be  better,  perhaps,  Mynheer 
Rembrandt,  were  you  to  go  elsewhere.  This  is 
too  painful  for  you." 

"  I  will  not.  I  will  see  the  fate  of  my  treasures ; 
but  I  will  try  to  hold  my  peace,  unless  the  insult 
is  too  gross." 

Meanwhile  Lazarus  whispered  to  a  friend  who 
had  come  with  him.  "  If  there  is  another  bid,  go 
a  very  little  higher.  The  picture  is  worth  ten 
times  that  sum.  I  will  take  it  off  your  hands. 
You  know  Lazarus."  Hendrik  raised  the  bid  a 
hundred  florins.  Lazarus's  friend  promptly  added 
fifty.  Hendrik  added  another  fifty,  but  that  was 
his  limit.  There  seemed  no  other  there  who  knew 
the  value  of  the  work,  or  had  the  means  to  pay  for 
it.  Lazarus  made  the  last  bid,  a  little  over  that  of 
Hendrik,  and  the  picture  was  his.  He  looked 
with  a  mocking  smile  at  Rembrandt,  as  the  auc 
tioneer  recorded  the  sale. 

By  this  time  Rembrandt  was  nearly  mad.  The 
insult  to  the  great  masters  he  felt  as  keenly  as 
though  it  were  to  himself.  He  would  surely  have 
rushed  upon  the  Jew  had  not  Hendrik  restrained 
him. 

"  Nay,  cousin,  that  will  not  do.  It  only  makes 
it  worse.  Thou  dost  not  want  to  be  in  prison. 

347 


REMBRANDT 

Quiet,  I  tell  thee.  Wait,  and  see  if  aught  can  be 
saved." 

With  great  difficulty  Rembrandt  recovered 
some  degree  of  self-possession.  No  longer  was 
there  pallor  on  his  face.  His  great  eyes  were 
blazing  with  anger.  His  fists  were  clenched.  He 
was  dangerous.  It  was  as  though  his  children 
were  being  torn  from  him,  one  by  one,  and  slain 
before  his  eyes,  while  he  stood  helpless  by.  Oh  ! 
the  pity  of  it!  Oh!  the  burning  remorse !  Oh! 
the  impotent  wrath !  The  painter  was  torn  to 
pieces  by  conflicting  emotions ;  and  at  last  they 
exhausted  him,  and  he  sank  back  again  in  his  chair 
quite  quiet,  though  still  flushed  and  with  flashing 
eyes.  When  the  head  of  Raphael  was  offered  he 
could  bear  no  more.  There  is  a  limit  to  human 
endurance.  The  hated  Jew  bid  for  it. 

"  God  in  heaven  !  "  shrieked  Rembrandt.  "  That, 
abominable  scoundrel  shall  not  have  that  divine 
picture."  He  leapt  up  from  his  chair,  and  with 
a  strength  almost  of  madness  pushed  his  way 
through  the  crowd.  He  seized  the  picture  and 
tried  to  force  his  wav  with  it  toward  the  front 

j 

door,  but  by  this  time  the  officers  overpowered 
him.  They  took  the  picture  from  him,  and  forced 
him  toward  the  door. 

Henclrik  had  followed  as  quickly  as  he  could  ; 
but  the  crowd  was  excited,  and  it  was  difficult  to 
press  through.  However,  he  reached  Rembrandt 
soon  after  the  officers  had  forced  him  into  the  hall. 

"  It  is  better  you  should  go,  cousin.  This  is  too 
painful.  You  are  not  yourself,  nor  can  I  help 
you.  I  cannot  bid  against  these  accursed  Jews." 


THE    HOME    SOLD    AT    AUCTION 

"Go?  Go  where?  There  is  no  place.  I  have 
no  home,  no  pictures,  no  wife.  Good  God!  have 
mercy! " 

At  this  moment  Hendrickje,  who  had  been 
watching  the  man  she  loved  from  a  little  room 
behind  the  dining-room,  came  toward  them. 

"  It  is  well  that  my  lord  should  go.  I  will  go  with 
him.  He  will  die  or  go  mad  if  he  stays  here." 

"  Ah  !  is  that  thou,  sweet  maiden  ?  I  will  go 
anywhere  thou  sayest ;  but  where!  oh,  where?" 

"  I  have  thought  of  that,  my  lord.  There  are 
rooms  for  thee  at  an  inn.  Thou  wilt  be  cared  for ; 
and  I  told  the  maid  to  have  Titus  ready  to  go. 
Yes,  he  is  there.  What  remains  to  thee  of  thy 
goods  will  be  sent  after.  I  have  cared  for  that." 

"  Hendrickje,  thou  art  kind,  indeed.  I  know 
not  why  thou  carest  for  me  thus,  but  I  will  go. 
Friend  Hendrik,  lend  me  thine  arm,  for  I  am  weak 
and  tired,  but  I  must  go  hence." 

The  kind  cousin  and  the  loving  maiden  helped 
the  heart-broken  artist  from  his  home.  The  lad 
and  the  maid  followed.  Rembrandt  looked  not 
back.  The  door  of  his  home  was  shut  to  him. 
The  treasures  that  he  loved  had  been  taken. 
There  was  naught  but  the  inn,  and  the  love  of 
these  who  loved  him  even  unto  death. 


319 


CHAPTER  XLIV 

Hildegarde  Finds  Rembrandt 

A  LBRECHT'S  recovery  was  slow.  It  takes 
/~\  time  to  knit  together  broken  bones,  even 
with  a  Dr.  Tulp  to  help.  However,  the  young 
German  seemed  far  from  impatient.  In  fact,  he 
wished  the  bone  would  take  all  the  time  possible 
in  its  effort  to  get  strong  again.  So  long  as  Hil 
degarde  ministered  to  him,  all  else  was  forgotten. 
Hildegarde  was  indeed  a  princess,  and  a  haughty 
one ;  but  now  she  seemed  like  a  very  lowly  maiden, 
though  an  exquisitely  beautiful  one.  She  did  for 
Albrecht  what  never  had  she  done  for  a  man  or 
woman  before.  Every  wish  she  seemed  to  know 
before  it  was  uttered.  Every  pair,  he  felt,  she- 
shared.  She  waited  upon  him,  almost  grudging 
the  time  for  necessary  sleep,  when  she  had  to  give 
way  to  Marjorie.  Sometimes,  under  her  soothing 
care,  Albrecht  would  doze  a  little,  and  then  wake, 
and,  seeing  her  beautiful  face  still  near,  would 
think  it  a  dream,  and  then  sink  into  a  deep  sleep. 
wishing  to  dream  again.  Then  Hildegarde  would 
look  upon  him  and  murmur,  half-aloud  :  "  How 
grand  he  is  !  Perhaps  he  will  be  another  Diirer. 
Who  can  tell  ?  Artist  he  is,  and  hero  too,  and 
lover.  Ah  !  my  heart,  cease  beating  thus  !  Was 
ever  lover  such  as  he?  Surely  he  has  earned  his 

350 


HILDEGARDE    FINDS    REMBRANDT 

reward.  I  would  kiss  him  now,  but  I  might  wake 
him,  and  that  would  be  bad  ;  yet  fain  would  I  kiss 
him.  Methinks  he  would  not  reprove  me  for  such 
an  awakening.  Nay  !  I  will  not.  A  while  ago 
thou  thoughtest  thyself  a  man  almost,  and  now 
art  thou  far  too  much  a  woman.  Be  womanly, 
then,  at  least,  and  lose  not  thy  dignity,  lest  he  de 
spise  thee.  Nay,  I  will  kiss  him  not." 

Albrecht  slept  long.  In  his  dreams  had  been 
always  his  beautiful  lady-love  ;  but  this  time  had 
appeared  also  the  face  of  Rembrandt,  wearing  a 
strained,  an  almost  deathly,  expression.  He  awoke 
with  a  cry  that  frightened  Hildegarde. 

"  Oh  !  what  is  it,  Albrecht  ?  " 

"  I  know  not !  I  know  not !  Was  Rembrandt 
here  ?  " 

"Rembrandt?  Nay,  thou  hast  been  dreaming. 
Calm  thyself." 

"  But  something  has  come  to  him.  I  know  it. 
Hast  thou  heard  aught?  " 

"  Nay,  nay,  rest,  or  thou  wilt  do  thyself  a  mis 
chief." 

"  But  I  must  know.  I  am  sure  there  is  much 
amiss.  I  saw  his  face.  He  is  in  grief.  Find  out 
for  me  what  it  is,  dearest  Hildegarde,  or  I  cannot 
rest." 

"  I  will  indeed.  I  will ;  only  be  quiet.  If  thou 
art  unrestful,  harm  may  come.  Thou  knowest  the 
doctor  said  that." 

"Yes,  I  know.  I  will  not  fret;  but  wilt  thou 
find  out  as  soon  as  may  be  ?  " 

"  That  will  I  do,  but  I  pray  thee  be  quiet." 

"  I  will  be  quiet,  only  leave  Marjorie  within  call. 
351 


REMBRANDT 

I  need  naught.  I  think  I  am  nearly  well,  but  I 
can  call  her  if  aught  is  needed.  Go  thou,  I  beg 
of  thee,  and  find  what  has  come  to  my  friend." 

Hildegarde  gave  directions  to  Marjorie  who 
could  now  be  spared  from  attendance  upon  Hil- 
debrand  ;  for  he  was  convalescent  and  able  to  care 
for  himself  in  his  own  room,  though  he  went  not 
out  of  the  house  as  yet.  He  knew  naught  of  the 
presence  of  Albrecht  in  the  same  lodgings ;  for 
their  rooms  were  far  apart,  and  nothing  had  been 
said  to  him  of  the  accident  for  fear  of  exciting 
him. 

Marjorie  came  and  sat  in  the  room  next  to  Al- 
brecht's ;  and  then  Hildegarde  called  Wilhelm 
and  told  him  to  go  with  her,  as  she  had  some 
what  to  do  without.  The  old  servant  was  soon 
ready,  and  together  they  took  their  way  toward 
Rembrandt's  home.  Hildegarde  blushed  as  she 
knocked  on  the  door,  for  she  remembered  in  what 
guise  she  had  last  been  there. 

The  door  was  not  opened  by  little  Jan,  but  by  a 
strange  servant.  He  seemed  like  the  apprentice 
of  a  shoemaker,  for  he  had  on  a  leathern  apron, 
and  his  fingers  were  covered  with  wax.  Hilde 
garde  started.  "Who  can  this  be?"  she  thought. 
"  Surely  Albrecht  was  in  the  right.  Something 
serious  has  happened  here."  Aloud  she  said  : 

"  I  seek  Rembrandt.  Will  you  tell  him  I  have 
a  message  to  him  from  Albrecht  von  Stoltzing?" 

"Rembrandt?  Rembrandt?"  said  the  boy, 
scratching  his  head.  "  I  know  him  not.  He 
lives  not  here.  My  master  lives  here.  He  came 
here  not  long  ago.  There  was  someone  here  be- 

352 


HILDEGARDE    FINDS    REMBRANDT 

fore.  It  may  have  been  Rembrandt,  but  I  know 
naught  of  him." 

"Rembrandt  lives  not  here?  Then,  where  is 
he?  Tell  me,  quickly." 

"  But  I  told  you,  mistress,  I  know  naught  of  him  ; 
but  come  in  and  sit  you  down.  I  will  ask  my  mas 
ter.  Perhaps  he  knows." 

Hildegarde  entered  the  vestibule,  and  again 
started  back  affrighted.  Not  one  of  the  beauti 
ful  pictures  was  there.  The  carved  chairs  were 
gone.  She  entered  the  hall.  That,  too,  was  bare, 
except  for  some  simple  and  homely  pieces  of  fur 
niture,  barely  enough  for  comfort.  Hildegarde 
was  as  one  dazed. 

"  Why !  he  has  moved  away,"  she  thought, 
"  and  he  never  let  Albrecht  know.  Nay,  but  how 
could  he,  for  he  knew  not  where  Albrecht  was  ? 
But  why  should  he  go?  I  am  trembling.  Some 
thing  awful  has  happened  here." 

Just  then  the  boy  returned,  and  said : 

"  Nay  !  mistress,  my  master  knows  not  where 
Rembrandt  went  after  his  house  was  sold." 

"  Sold,  did  you  say  ?  Rembrandt's  house  sold  ? 
When  was  that  ?" 

"  I  know  not.  I  am  a  boy.  I  was  not  here. 
How  should  I  know?  I  know  my  master  lives 
here,  and  it  is  his  house.  He  said  that.  I  have  to 
go  back  to  my  work.  I  can  tell  you  no  more,  nor 
can  my  master." 

With  bowed  head  Hildegarde  went  out,  and 
joined  Wilhelm,  who  was  awaiting  her  without. 

"  Wilhelm,  this  is  no  longer  Rembrandt's  home. 
It  has  been  sold,  and  everything  in  it  has  been  sold, 

353 


REMBRANDT 

I  believe,  for  naught  remains,  so  far  as  I  can  see ; 
and  they  know  not  where  the  great  painter  is. 
That  is  most  strange,  but  I  must  find  him.  I  dare 
not  go  back  to  Herr  Albrecht  until  I  know. 
Where  shall  I  go?  Ah  !  let  me  think."  She  paused 
a  moment,  then  said,  "  I  have  it !  The  burgomaster, 
Jan  Six,  he  would  know.  I  remember  Albrecht 
told  me  that  Jan  Six  loved  him,  and  while  other 
friends  had  deserted  him  Jan  Six  remained  true. 
Let  us  go  to  the  town-hall.  It  is  likely  we  may 
find  the  burgomaster  there." 

They  went  accordingly,  following  the  same  nar 
row  streets  through  which  Rembrandt  himself 
had  followed  her  long  before,  until  she  threatened 
to  call  out  the  Guard  on  him.  It  was  now  her 
part  to  follow  him,  and  she  meant  to  find  him. 
The  will  of  this  German  princess  was  not  to  be 
balked,  and  she  would  not  stop  until  she  had 
achieved  her  object.  They  reached  the  town-hall, 
and,  as  it  happened,  there  was  then  a  meeting  of 
the  burgomasters.  It  was  most  unusual  to  inter 
rupt  such  a  meeting  by  reason  of  any  private  bus 
iness  ;  but  Hildegarcle  was  impatient,  and  would 
not  be  stopped.  She  finally  induced  the  aston 
ished  bailiff  who  stood  at  the  door  without  to  take 
for  her  a  message  to  Jan  Six,  saying  that  she  de 
sired  to  see  him  for  a  moment  on  an  affair  of 
most  urgent  importance. 

"  I  give  not  my  name,  because  he  knows  it  not ; 
but  he  will  come  if  you  will  tell  him  the  matter 
concerns  his  friend  Rembrandt." 

The  bailiff,  carried  away  by  the  beauty  and  im- 
periousness  of  the  young  woman,  did  as  he  was 

354 


HILDEGARDE    FINDS    REMBRANDT 

bid.  The  result  was  as  Hildegarde  had  foretold. 
Jan  Six  came  forth  with  a  most  troubled  look  up 
on  his  noble  face.  He  started  back  in  astonish 
ment  as  he  saw  the  exquisite  girl  who  had  come, 
as  he  supposed,  from  Rembrandt,  but  immediately 
he  bowed  low  and  said,  "  What  is  this  about  my 
friend  Rembrandt?  What  have  you  come  to  tell 
me  ?" 

"  Knew  you  not,  my  Lord  Burgomaster,  that 
his  home  was  sold  ?" 

"  Alas  !  Yes  !  well  knew  I  that.  Why  came  you 
hitherto  tell  me  that?  I  thought  you  brought 
some  ill  tidings  that  I  had  not  heard." 

"  Oh  !  sir,  pardon  !  I  came  to  ask  if  you  knew 
where  he  had  gone,  for  I  could  not  find  out  at  the 
house ;  and  I  have  a  friend,  I  mean  a  friend  of  his, 
who  would  know  what  has  come  to  him  and  where 
he  is,  and  my  friend,  his  friend,  is  ill,  and  he  must 
know  at  once.  Please  tell  me,  Lord  Burgomas 
ter." 

"  Ah,  I  see,  this  friend  must  know  at  once  ;  and 
surely  he  has  a  messenger  who  does  his  errands 
well  and  faithfully.  Poor  Rembrandt  has  gone 
to  the  inn,  Schuurman's  inn,  in  the  Kalverstraat. 
Know  you  the  place  ?  " 

"Ah,  yes,  I  know.  They  have  sales  there  some 
times,  do  they  not?" 

"  They  do,  indeed.  The  name  of  the  inn  is  the 
Imperial  Crown." 

"  I  thank  you,  my  Lord  Burgomaster.  May  I 
now  take  my  leave  ?  I  crave  your  pardon  for  thus 
intruding  upon  your  affairs  of  state;  but  the  sick 
man  had  to  know,  and  I  dared  not  go  back  to  him 

355 


REMBRANDT 

until  I  had  found  what  had  befallen  his  dear  friend 
Rembrandt." 

"  Ah,  you  must  mean  the  German,  Albrecht 
von  Stoltzing.  I  wondered  where  he  was  in  this 
time  of  his  friend's  trouble.  He  has  been  ill,  you 
say?" 

"Yes,  indeed,  my  lord,  very  ill,  but  he  is  better 
now.  Indeed,  I  must  hasten,  for  he  is  impatient, 
and  that  is  not  well  for  sick  folk." 

"  Surely,  go  then.  I  am  glad  to  have  been  of 
service  to  you,  and  I  congratulate  the  German  on 
having  so  fair  and  faithful  a  messenger." 

Hastily,  and  in  some  confusion,  Hildegarde  left 
and  went  with  Wilhelm  direct  to  the  inn  of  the 
Imperial  Crown. 

"  Does  Mynheer  Rembrandt  lodge  here?"  said 
the  impetuous  maiden  to  the  surprised  innkeeper. 

"  Yes,  truly.     He  has  been  here  a  little  time." 

"I  would  like  to  see  him  at  once." 

"  Indeed  !  and  what  name  shall  I  give  him,  for 
he  keeps  his  room  and  sees  but  few?"  Aside  he 
said :  "  Methinks  anyone  would  be  glad  to  see  a 
creature  so  beautiful  as  you  are." 

With  a  little  hesitation  Hildegarde  said :  "  I 
do  not  believe  he  knows  my  name,  but  you  may 
tell  him  it  is  one  who  comes  from  his  friend,  Al 
brecht  von  Stoltzing." 

"  I  will  tell  him.  Kindly  wait  here  a  moment." 
He  offered  her  one  of  the  carved  chairs,  of  which 
the  inn  was  full.  It  was  not  long  before  he  re 
turned,  saying  Rembrandt  would  see  her;  and  she 
went  up  to  the  artist's  room. 

The  painter  had  risen  from  his  chair  before  an 
356 


HILDEGARDE    FINDS    REMBRANDT 

easel,  on  which  was  a  half  finished  picture,  and  he 
came  toward  her  with  somewhat  of  his  former 
princely  manner;  but  Hildegarde  saw  in  a  mo 
ment  that  he  was  broken.  The  lines  of  suffering 
were  on  his  face. 

"  !  greet  you,  fair  lady.  Ah !  I  have  seen  you 
before,  but  I  know  not  where.  You  come  from 
Albrecht.  Tell  me  what  has  become  of  him?" 

"  I  am  Hildegarde  von  Lebenthal.  I  am  a  Ger= 
man  lady,  and  I  know  your  friend  Albrecht  well. 
He  has  been  very  ill.  He  had  an  accident.  A 
bale  fell  on  him  as  he  tried  to  save  a  little  boy's 
life  ;  and  his  leg  was  fractured,  and  he  has  been 
long  unable  to  move.  He  bade  me  tell  you  ;  and 
he  wanted  to  know  how  it  was  with  you,  for  he 
had  dreamt  some  evil  had  befallen  you." 

"  Ah  !  that  is  why  he  came  not  to  the  sale.  I 
understand.  I  knew  his  heart  was  true.  How  is 
it  with  me,  he  would  know  ?  Tell  him  my  home 
is  sold,  and  all  my  pictures.  I  am  friendless  and 
weary.  No,  not  quite  friendless  ;  there  are  two  or 
three  in  the  world  who  yet  care  for  me,  but  I  am 
sick  at  heart,  and  I  fear  my  days  are  numbered. 
Nevertheless,  tell  him  I  am  still  trying  to  paint; 
and  there  is  some  consolation  in  my  beloved  art, 
and  there  are  those  who  care  for  me — kindly  ones. 
I  am  not  altogether  lonely,  though  I  am  dazed 
and  bewildered ;  and  sometimes  I  cannot  even 
paint,  because  of  a  kind  of  numbness  that  comes 
over  me." 

"  Must  I  tell  him  that  ?  Oh,  master,  surely  I 
know  you  will  paint  again.  No  grief,  however 
terrible,  can  destroy  the  wondrous  art  which  is 

357 


REMBRANDT 

your  most  precious  gift.  Be  comforted.  Al- 
brecht  will  come  as  soon  as  he  can  walk,  and 
that  will  not  be  long  now.  I  must  go  to  him, 
for  he  is  all  impatience  to  hear  news  of  his 
dearest  friend." 

"  Go  then,  fair  lady,  but  come  again.  Come 
with  him  when  he  comes,  for  I  would  fain  look 
once  more  upon  that  winsome  face  of  yours.  It  is 
like  sunshine,  when  the  sky  clears  after  a  storm." 

"  Indeed,  sir,  you  have  not  lost  your  courtliness. 
Gladly  will  I  accompany  Albrecht,  when  he  is 
able  to  come  hither." 

Hildegarde  took  her  leave  and,  with  Wilhelm, 
went  directly  to  the  lodgings.  On  the  way  she 
was  revolving  in  her  mind  how  much  she  dared 
tell  Albrecht  of  the  dreadful  things  she  had  heard 
and  seen.  She  greatly  feared  to  excite  him,  and 
yet  she  knew  he  would  insist  on  knowing  all  the 
truth.  Perhaps  it  was  idle  to  attempt  conceal 
ment;  but  it  was  an  awful  story  to  tell  a  man  not 
yet  well,  and  who  had  suffered  as  Albrecht  had. 

She  went  straight  to  his  room.  He  was  sitting 
up  in  his  bed.  His  cheeks  were  flushed  with  ex 
citement.  He  had  waited  long,  and  could  not  im 
agine  why  Hildegarde  returned  not  sooner  from 
her  errand. 

"  Ah,  there  art  thou  at  last!"  he  exclaimed. 
"  What  is  it?  Tell  me.  Fear  not.  I  know  it  is 
bad  news.  My  heart  tells  me  that,  but  I  am 
strong  enough  to  bear  it.  I  am  nearly  well  now, 
dearest  Hildegarde." 

"  Nay,  that  art  thou  not ;  but  I  will  tell  thee,  for 
I  see  thou  wilt  know.  It  was  long  ere  I  could  find 

358 


HILDEGARDE    FINDS    REMBRANDT 

him,  for  he  lives  no  longer  in  his  home.  It  has 
been  sold." 

"Sold!  saidstthou?  Hildegarde,  art  thou  sure? 
Ah  !  I  see — the  Jew  !  My  heart  misgave  me,  but 
I  did  not  think  it  would  come  to  that." 

"  Indeed,  yes  !  it  is  sold,  and  to  a  shoemaker. 
His  apprentice  opened  the  door." 

"  By  all  the  saints,  what  horror !  Rembrandt's 
home  sold,  and  to  a  shoemaker  !  " 

"  I  fear  it  is  worse  than  that,  if  worse  could  be. 
It  seems  that  all  the  pictures,  and  the  prints,  and 
even  the  furniture,  were  sold  too.  They  were  not 
in  the  house,  and  they  were  not  in  Rembrandt's 
room  at  the  inn.  Much  I  fear  the  Jews  have  them, 
though  I  know  it  not  exactly." 

"  Is  this  my  delirium,  Hildegarde,  or  dost  thou 
indeed  say  true?  Rembrandt  in  a  room  at  an 
inn,  saidst  thou,  and  all  his  pictures  and  prints 
sold,  and  even  his  furniture  ?  Saidst  thou  that, 
or  have  I  dreamed  it?  " 

"  I  said  it,  dear  Albrecht,  for  I  saw  thou  wouldst 
know  the  truth." 

"  And  I,  his  dearest  friend,  was  not  there  to  help. 
Oh,  what  cruel  misfortune !  What  must  he  think 
of  me?" 

"  Surely  it  was  not  thy  fault.  I  have  told  him 
all,  and  he  blames  thee  not." 

"  Thou  sawest  him,  then?     How  looked  he?" 

"Not  well.  He  seems  broken ;  but  he  bade  me 
tell  thee  there  were  still  some  who  loved  him  and 
cared  for  him,  and  he  would  see  thee  as  soon  as 
thou  couldst  come." 

"Come?      I    will    come    now.      Why    linger    I 

359 


REMBRANDT 

here?  I  am  well.  I  have  stayed  here  so  long  only 
because  of  thine  own  sweet  self.  I  could  not  fore 
go  the  tenderness  of  thy  ministrations;  for  I  knew 
there  must  be  love  in  thine  heart,  else  would  they 
not  have  been  so  tender.  I  fear  I  have  neglected 
my  friend  ;  but  it  was  for  love  of  thee,  my  own. 
Wilt  thou  love  me  in  thy  turn,  although  I  have 
been  selfish?" 

"  Thou  hast  not  been  selfish.  Thou  knowest 
not  how  serious  was  thy  hurt.  Thou  shalt  not 
blame  thyself." 

"Nay,  but  thou  dost  not  answer  me.  If  thou 
lovest  me,  come  hither,  my  princess,  and  kiss  me." 

"  It  is  true.  Thou  knowest  I  am  all  thine  own. 
I  will  come."  In  a  moment  her  arms  were  about 
him.  He  pressed  her  to  him,  and  their  lips  met  in 
love's  first  long  kiss.' 

"  Oh,  my  beloved,  I  am  well.  I  am  strong.  I 
will  arise.  I  am  a  man  again  for  thee ;  and  I 
would  help  him,  too.  Let  me  not  forget  my 
friend  in  this  sweetest  hour  of  my  life." 

"  It  shall  be  as  thou  sayest,  best  beloved  ;  but, 
oh,  be  careful.  Much  I  fear  thou  are  not  yet  as 
strong  as  thou  thinkest." 

"I  am,  indeed.  I  am  as  strong  as  twenty  men, 
thanks  to  thy  dear  love." 

It  was  true.  Albrecht  was  soon  quite  himself 
again.  Indeed,  he  seemed  stronger  than  before. 
There  was  a  flashing  of  the  eye,  an  ardor  of  the 
mien,  that  made  one  quite  forget  the  dreamer  who 
had  come  somewhat  listlessly  to  Amsterdam  so 
long  before. 


360 


CHAPTER  XLV 

A    Wedding  in  St.  Sebald's  Church 

THE  next  morning  Albrecht  and  Hildegarde 
set  forth  for  the  inn  of  the  Imperial  Crown. 
In  the  first  flush  of  his  love  the  German  was  not 
selfish,  nor  was  the  noble  maiden  whom  he  loved. 
Together  they  went  to  seek  the  stricken  artist, 
and  help  him  if  they  could.  Both  these  generous 
hearts  beat  high  in  the  hope  of  helping  him  whom 
both  revered  and  one  loved  intensely.  They 
came  to  the  inn.  The  innkeper  recognized  at 
once  the  beautiful  maiden — no  one  could  forget 
Hildegarde. 

"  Ah  !  you  come  again,  and  it  is  Rembrandt  you 
will  see,  I  deem?  But  who  is  he?  I  cannot  tell 
whether  the  master  will  see  him." 

"  Quiet,  I  pray  thee,"  said  Hildegarde.  "  This  is 
the  master's  dearest  friend,  Albrecht  von  Stoltzing. 
Go  quickly.  Tell  that  name.  It  will  be  enough." 

The  innkeeper  went  to  the  artist's  room  and 
did  as  Hildegarde  had  said.  Rembrandt  was 
painting,  as  always.  He  started  from  his  easel, 
flung  open  the  door,  nearly  overturning  the  burly 
innkeeper  who  was  in  the  way,  and  rushing  to 
the  landing  cried,  "  Come  up— come  up  quickly, 
my  friend,  my  dear  friend  !  " 

Albrecht  at  once  began  mounting  the  stair. 
361 


REMBRANDT 

Hildegarde  followed  a  little  timidly,  and  a  good 
deal  behind.  "  It  is  better  I  should  give  them 
time  to  greet  each  other,"  she  thought.  That  she 
did.  "  A  friend  again  !  a  friend  at  last !  Oh,  Al- 
brecht!  where  hast  thou  been?  But,  nay,  1  know 
—  I  have  been  told." 

"  Would  God  I  had  been  with  thee  in  the 
time  of  trial !  Some  evil  deity  has  separated  us, 
both  in  thine  hour  of  joy  and  sadness;  but  my 
heart  was  always  with  thee.  Surely  thou  knowest 
that,  Rembrandt?" 

"  Yes,  truly,  indeed  do  I  know  ;  but  where  is 
that  fair  messenger  of  thine  who  told  me  of  thy 
troubles?  Methinks  she  took  deep  interest  in 
what  had  befallen  thee." 

"  Ah  !  Thou  meanest  Hildegarde.  Why  she 
was  here  but  now.  I  thought  she  entered  with 
me.  Where  is  the  maiden  ?  "  Albrecht  opened 
the  door,  and  there  was  his  lady  sitting  on  the  land 
ing,  laughing  merrily  at  being  thus  forgotten. 

"  My  own  !  why  didst  thou  not  come  in  with 
me?  I  fear  thou  hast  shamed  me  in  Rembrandt's 
eyes,  for  he  will  deem  it  unmannerly  that  I  did 
leave  thee  without." 

"  But  thou  didst  not.  'Twas  I  that  left  myself. 
Methought  it  would  be  well  to  give  you  two  time 
for  your  greeting;  but,  by  my  faith,  ye  have  been 
unconscionably  long  about  it,  and  I  am  cramped 
with  sitting  here  on  the  stair.  Oh!  Ah!  I  am 
lame,  I  fear.  I  shall  make  but  a  sorry  appearance 
before  the  master." 

"  Now  Hildegarde,  dearest,  art  thou  really 
troubled  ?  Nay,  it  is  thy  jest.  I  see  it  in  thine 

362 


A   WEDDING 

eyes.      Come    now,    for    Rembrandt   would    see 
thee.' 

"  Oh  !  yes,  I  will  come,  but  thou  shouldst  have 
a  little  sympathy.  I  must  limp  just  a  little,  if  only 
to  save  my  good  name  for  truth-telling." 

"  That  shalt  thou  not  do,  for  indeed  well  I  know 
no  harm  has  come  to  thee;  and  yet  I  repent  me  of 
my  selfishness  in  leaving  thee  there  so  long. 
Nay !  come  now,  beautiful  lady.  Mock  me  no 
more.  Let  the  stricken  Rembrandt  see  thee  in 
all  thy  loveliness.  Surely  that  is  enough  to  cure 
all  mortal  ailments." 

"  As  thou  wilt.  I  suppose  I  am  no  longer  my 
master — mistress,  I  meant.  I  used  to  say  master, 
thou  knowest,  when  I  wore  armor,  but  it  should 
be  mistress  now." 

"  Nay,  it  should  be  Queen,  and  naught  else. 
Come,  and  let  Rembrandt  see  thee." 

They  entered  the  room  where  Rembrandt  had 
been  waiting  during  this  talk,  and  wondering  what 
had  become  of  them. 

"  Ah !  there  is  the  fair  messenger,  the  faith 
ful  messenger.  Methinks  thou  art  fortunate, 
Albrecht,  my  dearest  friend.  Mistress  Hilde- 
garde  !  I  greet  you.  Ah  !  that  day  in  the  studio, 
when  a  young  man  would  not  let  me  paint  his 
portrait." 

"  Speak  not  of  that,  I  pray,"  said  Hildegarde, 
"  else  will  I  go  directly." 

"  Nay,  but  why  ?  You  came  on  a  good  errand, 
and  the  disguise  was  necessary ;  but  beauty  can 
not  be  disguised.  I  knew  there  was  some  strange 
charm  in  that  would-be  young  man." 

363 


REMBRANDT 

"  I  pray  you  to  be  silent,"  said  Hildegarde, 
blushing  deeply. 

"  I  will  not  be  silent,  fair  lady,  for  fain  would  I 
tell  you  of  the  devotion  of  this  young  man." 

"  Nay,  sir,  but  I  know  all  that.  He  has  told  me 
himself,  and  far  too  much." 

"  Indeed  !  indeed  !  too  much,  you  said  ?  I  think 
not.  Your  face  tells  a  different  story.  From  a 
study  of  it,  I  should  judge  that  a  good  deal  more 
of  that  same  devotion  would  be  by  no  means  un 
welcome.  Ha!  there  is  ablush.  Pardon!  1  beg. 
I  meant  not  to  offend,  but  I  rejoice  in  my  friend's 

J°J-" 

"  Rembrandt,"  said  Albrecht,  "  I  pray  thee  cease 

thy  bantering.  Seest  thou  not  the  maiden  is  con 
fused?  But  it  is  true  that  we  are  betrothed." 

"  I  am  thankful  for  that,  and  I  trust  the  mar 
riage  comes  hard  after  the  betrothal." 

"  There  has  been  no  word  of  marriage  yet," 
said  Hildegarde,  starting  up  and  threatening  to 
leave  the  room. 

"Nay,  come  hither,  fair  lady.  After  betrothal 
needs  must  come  marriage.  Blush  not,  for  in 
deed  you  must  face  it  out,  and  with  a  bold  front 
too.  Now,  Albrecht,  what  thinkest  thou  of  St. 
Sebald's,  in  Nuremberg?  Never  saw  I  the  an 
cient  church,  but  often  have  I  heard  that  the 
beauty  of  it  is  wondrous.  I  remember  now. 
Saidst  thou  not  it  was  there  that  first  thou  sawest 
this  lovely  face  that  has  bewitched  thee?" 

"  Indeed  it  was,  dear  friend." 

"  Then  there  shall  ye  two  be  married.  Rem 
brandt  says  it,  and  Rembrandt  loves  you  both. 

364 


A    WEDDING 

There  now,  go,  for  I  must  paint  again.  See,  the 
picture  is  drying,  and  I  cannot  wait  longer." 

"  But,  dear  friend,  who  will  care  for  thee  when 
we  go  ?  " 

"  Now,  that  is  a  pretty  question.  Hast  thou 
been  caring  for  me  of  late  ?  Well  I  know  thou 
wouldst  have  done  so,  but  thou  couldst  not.  Nay, 
my  art  will  care  for  me,  and  then  there  are  those 
who  love  me.  I  have  my  son,  thou  knowest,  and 
there  is  Jan  Six.  Fear  not  for  me.  Go  and  be 
happy,  and  may  God  bless  you  both." 

They  went.  Hildegarde,  with  downcast  eye, 
bowed  head,  and  cheeks  aflame  with  blushes, 
would  say  not  one  word  all  the  way  back  to  the 
lodgings.  Rembrandt's  bluntness  had  somewhat 
affrighted  her;  for  her  womanhood  was  now  in 
the  ascendant,  and  it  was  a  very  sacred  and  pre 
cious  thing.  Nevertheless,  there  was  a  secret  joy 
in  her  heart  as  she  thought  of  St.  Sebald's  Church, 
in  her  beloved  Nuremberg,  and  of  what  might 
happen  there.  As  to  Albrecht,  his  heart  beat 
high  with  passion.  Already  were  the  portals  of 
the  church  where  first  he  saw  her  opening  to  ad 
mit  her  as  his  bride.  Already  were  the  tones  of 
the  wedding-music  floating  to  his  ears  adown  the 
columned  aisles. 

"  Hildegarde,  adored  one !  shalt  it  be  there,  as 
the  master  said — there,  in  the  church  of  sainted 
Sebald  ? — there  where  first  thy  divine  face  be 
witched  me?" 

Hildegarde  lifted  her  head  and  looked  him  full 
in  the  eye,  meeting  his  passion  with  an  equal  one. 
"  It  shall  be  there,  my  own  !  my  knight !  my  king! 

365 


REMBRANDT 

There  shall  thy    Hildegarde   give    thee  what  is 
really  thine  already." 

And  so  it  was.  In  a  little  time  they  left  Am 
sterdam  and  the  wedding-music  floated  in  truth 
among  the  arches  and  about  St.  Sebald's  shrine ; 
and  afterward  they  dwelt  in  Nuremberg  for  a 
long  time  in  such  happiness  as  only  those  who 
truly  love  can  know. 


366 


CHAPTER  XLVI 

Help  for  Rembrandt 

AFTER  Albrecht  and  Hildegarde  left,  Rem 
brandt  went  again  immediately  to  his  easel. 
He  was  painting  a  scene  from  the  Bible,  and  the 
picture  was  wonderful  in  conception  and  execu 
tion.  Not  all  his  troubles  had  made  the  master's 
hand  tremble,  or  in  the  least  dimmed  his  eye,  be 
cause  art  was  his  life.  In  a  moment  he  had  for 
gotten  everything  save  the  picture ;  but  when  the 
evening  came  on,  and  at  last  he  could  not  see,  the 
palette  and  brush  fell  from  his  hands,  and  he  said, 
wearily,  "  Oh!  where  is  she?  Why  am  I  alone? 
I  am  weary  because  I  can  paint  no  more.  What 
else  is  to  do?  Oh!  where  is  she?  That  lovely 
peasant  maid  who  said  she  loved  me.  If  she 
loves  me,  why  comes  she  not  ?  Let  her  come  and 
comfort  me!  She  did  comfort  me  before,  in  the 
day  of  my  awful  trial.  Why  comes  she  not,  I 
say  ?  She  is  beautiful.  She  is  lovely.  I  would 
see  her  again.  I  need  her  in  my  art.  I  need  her 
for  myself.  Where  has  Hendrickje  gone?  She 
said  she  loved  me.  I  know  she  did  ;  but  this  is 
not  love,  to  desert  me  thus." 

But  Hendrickje  came  not,  and  Rembrandt  was 
still  alone.  He  sent  for  a  large  lamp,  and  by  its 
bright  light  began  preparing  a  plate  for  an  etch- 

36? 


REMBRANDT 

ing.  Soon  he  was  quite  absorbed  in  his  work. 
But  sometimes  he  would  start  up  as  though  look 
ing  for  something.  Saskia  was  in  his  thought. 
She  had  always  sat  near  him  as  he  etched,  and  not 
even  his  absorption  in  his  art  could  wholly  banish 
the  thought  of  her.  At  last  he  grew  weary.  It 
was  late  in  the  evening.  The  exquisite  etching 
was  complete,  and  the  artist  saw  that  it  was  good. 
He  loved  it,  but  still  he  was  lonely.  Absorbed  as 
he  was  in  his  art,  he  needed  some  warmth  of  hu 
man  companionship.  He  could  not  live  quite 
alone.  Above  all,  he  needed  near  him  the  beauty 
of  woman.  Without  that  his  heart  languished. 
"  Oh  !  what  shall  I  do  ?  I  am  aching  with  loneli 
ness,"  he  murmured,  as  he  tossed  on  his  pillow. 
"  I  know  not,  but  sure  I  am  I  cannot  live  thus." 
Thus  thinking,  he  fell  asleep  at  last,  after  hours  of 
weary  restlessness.  And  thus  went  on  the  days 
and  the  nights,  many  of  them,  and  still  Hen- 
drickje  came  not.  Titus  came,  and  comforted  his 
father  as  well  as  he  could  ;  but  the  maiden  was 
deterred,  because  she  feared  herself  on  account 
of  the  great  love  that  was  in  her.  At  last,  Titus 
came  to  her  one  day  and  said,  "  Hendrickje,  my 
father  has  asked  for  thee.  He  wonders  that  thou 
comest  not  to  him,  and  he  is  very  lonely." 

"  Ah  !  he  asked  for  me  ?  I  will  go.  I  will  go 
directly,  Titus.  Saidst  thou  he  really  wanted 
me?" 

"  I  said  it.  Go  to  him.  Comfort  him,  if  thou 
canst ;  and,  indeed,  I  believe  it  is  in  thy  power." 

Without  further  words,  Hendrickje  went  to  the 
inn  and  sought  Rembrandt's  room.  He  was  paint- 

368 


HELP    FOR    REMBRANDT 

ing,  as  always ;  but  as  she  entered  he  started  up 
from  the  easel  and  went  toward  her  eagerly. 

"  Hast  thou  come  at  last?  Thou  didst  say  thou 
lovest  me.  Yet  hast  thou  kept  away  from  me 
this  long  time.  There  are  not  many  who  love  me. 
Thou  shouldst  not  have  stayed  afar  off.  Why 
didst  thou  thus  ?  " 

"  Oh !  my  lord,  I  know  not.  Perhaps  I  was 
afraid." 

"  Afraid  of  what  ?  Ah  !  I  know,  afraid  of  the 
power  of  thine  own  beauty.  Hendrickje,  thou 
art  indeed  lovely.  That  form  of  thine  is  like 
one  of  those  graces  that  the  immortal  Raphael 
painted." 

"  Nay  !  talk  not  thus,  my  lord.  I  am  not  beau 
tiful.  I  am  but  a  simple  peasant  maiden." 

"Beautiful  art  thou  in  truth,  and  I  love  thy 
beauty.  Hendrickje,  give  me  that  loveliness  of 
thine!  Come  to  me,  and  leave  me  no  more! 
Come  to  my  arms!  Let  me  caress  thee!  Love 
me  !  love  me  !  Leave  me  no  more  !  " 

"  Even  as  thou  wilt,  my  lord.  Hendrickje  is  all 
thine.  Do  with  her  as  thou  wilt.  She  will  rejoice 
in  whatever  thou  doest,  for  she  longs  to  serve  and 
love  thee." 

In  a  moment  Rembrandt  folded  her  in  his  arms, 
and  kissed  her  lips  again  and  again. 

"  I  will  never  let  thee  go.  Thou  hast  said 
thou  art  mine.  I  answer,  I  am  thine.  Unclasp 
not  those  soft  arms.  Remain  here  ever,  next  to 
my  heart." 

"  I  will,  my  lord,  nor  did  I  think  life  had  for 
me  such  joy.  In  thine  arms  would  I  live  and  die." 

369 


REMBRANDT 

Thus  Hendrickje  gave  herself  without  a 
thought,  save  of  her  love,  to  the  great  man  whom 
she  had  long  adored.  She  left  him  no  more  until 
the  day  of  her  death.  She  gloried  in  loving  him, 
and  doing  his  bidding. 

But  why  was  there  not  a  marriage  ?  Rembrandt 
was  so  utterly  absorbed  in  his  art  and  his  pas 
sion,  that  he  thought  not  of  it  at  all.  It  was 
enough  that  he  was  loved  and  comforted,  and 
could  paint  again  with  ardor.  With  eagerness 
he  painted  from  the  new  model.  The  exquisite 
beauty  of  her  form  was  a  fresh  inspiration  to  his 
brush.  His  art  was  again  all  aflame ;  and  more 
and  more  completely  did  he  forget  all,  save  that 
and  his  passion  for  the  beautiful  girl. 

And  so  passed  many  months  and  years,  and 
there  was  in  them  much  joy;  but, on  Hendrickje's 
part,  there  were  many  misgivings  about  the  mas 
ter.  Soon  she  saw  that  he  could  not  be  trusted 
with  money.  Though  Hendrickje  could  yield  to 
her  passion  with  complete  self-abandonment,  yet 
she  had  a  shrewd  mind  and  was  careful  about 
money  matters,  like  almost  all  Dutch  women. 
Rembrandt  had  ruined  himself  once ;  and  it  was 
certain  he  would  do  so  again,  if  he  were  allowed 
to  handle  the  money  that  came  from  his  pictures 
and  etchings.  Hendrickje  resolved  that  her 
lord  should  never  suffer  again  as  he  had  suffered 
at  the  auction.  She  saw  plainly  that  the  absorp 
tion  of  his  art  grew  upon  him.  In  that  he  was 
still  the  greatest  master.  In  all  other  things  he 
was  like  a  child.  The  art-idea  had  fairly  possessed 
him  at  last,  to  the  complete  exclusion  of  all  that 

370 


HENDRICKJE 


HELP    Ft)R    REMBRANDT 

was  outside  of  it,  save  his  passion  for  herself.  She 
had  many  and  anxious  talks  with  Titus,  who  knew 
his  father's  weakness  as  well  as  she  did.  Young1 
though  he  was,  his  love  taught  him  to  understand 
the  father  whom  he  adored. 

"  Hendrickje,"  he  said  one  day,  "  I  have  a 
thought  that  I  would  tell  thee.  Thou  hast  09111- 
forted  my  father,  and  I  thank  thee  for  it,  and  I 
love  thee  ;  but  more  than  comfort  is  needed.  Thou 
and  I  must  help.  Now,  my  thought  was  this. 
Why  can  we  not  open  a  print-shop,  like  that  of 
Hendrik,  and  sell  all  that  father  paints  or  etches? 
Then  we  take  the  money,  and  give  him  what  he 
needs  for  his  support ;  and  he  shall  agree  to  sell 
nothing  save  through  us.  What  sayest  thou, 
Hendrickje?  " 

"  It  is  a  good  thought,  dear  Titus.  Well  know 
I  something  must  be  done.  Thinkest  thou  it  will 
humiliate  the  master  to  place  him  in  such  a  posi 
tion?  He  is  proud,  thou  knowest." 

"  Nay,  Hendrickje,  he  thinks  but  of  his  art  and 
thee.  He  will  not  care.  Give  him  a  place  where 
he  can  paint,  and  give  him  thy  love — he  will  ask 
naught  else.  Thou  and  I  will  care  for  him,  and 
see  to  it  that  his  genius  is  free  to  soar  as  it  will 
without  thought  of  these  sordid  matters  with 
which  his  mind  cares  not  to  dwell ;  nor  does  it  do 
well  when  it  dwells  there.  Those  things  hinder 
him.  Seest  thou  not,  Hendrickje?" 

"  Indeed  !  I  see  only  too  clearly.  Wilt  thou 
speak  to  him,  Titus?  I  dare  not.  I  fear  he 
would  doubt  my  love,  if  I  spoke  to  him  in  such 
wise." 

371 


REMBRANDT 

"  Thou  art  in  the  right,  Hendrickje,  though 
never  could  he  doubt  thy  love.  But  I  will  speak. 
It  is  my  duty  as  his  son ;  and  I  will  speak  now,  for 
there  is  no  time  to  be  lost.  Yesterday  did  I  see 
him  buy  a  print  at  a  great  price  with  the  proceeds 
of  his  last  picture." 

"Alas!  I  feared  it.  He  has  never  money  to 
pay  the  innkeeper.  He  tells  me  not  what  he 
does  with  it,  but  I  have  seen  some  prints  he  has 
bought.  It  cannot  go  on  thus,  Titus.  See  him, 
I  beg  of  thee,  and  tell  him  of  this  plan.  I  be 
lieve  it  is  for  the  best,  and  I  will  help  thee  all  I 
can.  Indeed,  it  must  be  done,  or  there  will  be 
another  tragedy.  I  am  trembling  at  the  very 
thought  of  it." 

"I  will  come  on  the  morrow.  Go  now,  dear 
Hendrickje,  and  say  naught  to  him  of  this.  Leave 
that  to  me." 

"  Thou  art  indeed  a  faithful  son.  Thou  lovest 
him  most  dearly,  and  I  adore  him.  Between  us, 
Titus,  surely  we  can  make  these  years  of  his  life 
calm  for  his  art,  which  must  shine  like  the  sun 
which  it  is." 

"  Indeed  we  will.  It  is  our  duty.  The  world 
must  not  lack  the  fruit  of  his  genius.  I  will  come 
on  the  morrow,  as  I  said.  Farewell,  dear  Hen 
drickje." 

Hendrickje  left  him  and  went  back  to  the  stu 
dio,  where  she  found  Rembrandt  painting  with 
his  accustomed  absorption.  In  the  evening  he 
made  an  etching  of  her,  and  a  very  beautiful  work 
it  was  ;  nor  was  there  lack  of  loving  talk  as 
the  work  went  on.  Nevertheless,  Hendrickje's 

372 


HELP   FOR    REMBRANDT 

heart  was  heavy  within  her  as  she  thought  of  the 
morrow,  and  what  seemed  to  her  the  humiliation 
of  the  master.  With  a  groan  she  said  to  herself, 
"  It  must  be.  He  cannot  help  it.  He  knows 
naught  but  his  art  and  his  passion." 


373 


CHAPTER  XLVII 

How   Titus  Opened  the  Print-Shop 

ON  the  morrow  Titus  came  to  his  father.  He 
came  with  a  heavy  heart.  His  mission  was 
a  sad,  nay,  a  tragic  one,  and  he  scarce  knew  how 
he  would  be  met.  Yet  he  was  guided  by  the 
deepest,  the  most  unselfish  love,  and  he  felt  he 
could  not  go  amiss. 

As  he  entered  the  studio  Rembrandt  was  rest 
ing  for  awhile.  lie  had  just  finished  a  picture 
and  was  looking  lovingly  upon  it. 

"  Is  that  thyself,  Titus  ?  Glad,  indeed,  am  I  to 
see  thee.  Does  all  go  well  ?  " 

"  Yes,  father,  I  think  so  ;  but  there  is  °omething 
of  which  I  would  speak  to  thee." 

"Ah!  Thou  must  mean  this  portrait.  Look, 
Titus  !  Is  not  the  very  life  there  ?  Methinks  I 
have  never  done  so  well  before." 

"  Truly,  it  is  a  masterpiece.  All  thy  works  are 
masterpieces,  father." 

"  Nay,  but  this  is  better.  Seest  thou  not  there 
is  more  warmth  in  the  tone.  Methinks  since  Hen- 
drickje  came  to  me,  not  only  my  heart,  but  my 
brush  has  been  warmed.  Look,  Titus — look  at 
these  golden  tones." 

"  Father,  indeed  they  are  most  beautiful.  They 
are  wonderful;  but  I  must  tell  thee  why  I  came, 
and  what  I  have  to  say  to  thee." 

374 


HOW  TITUS  OPENED  THE  PRINT-SHOP 

"Thou  lookest  somewhat  serious,  my  son.  I 
trust  thou  hast  no  ill  tidings." 

"  Nay,  father,  I  will  tell  thee  now.  There  are 
two  in  this  world  who  love  thee  enough  to  give 
their  lives  for  thee.  One  is  thy  son  ;  the  other  is 
thy  love.  Hendrickje  and  I  have  talked  together, 
and  we  thought  it  would  be  well  if  we  opened  a 
shop  for  the  sale  of  prints  and  pictures.  Now, 
father,  we  could  not  prosper  unless  we  had  the 
sole  sale  of  all  thy  works.  I  have  come  to  ask 
thee  if  thou  wilt  agree  to  let  everything  that  thou 
dost  paint  or  etch  be  given  to  us  for  sale,  and  we 
will  render  thee  account  of  the  proceeds  ;  and  sure 
ly  thus  wilt  thou  have  what  is  needed  to  keep  thee 
in  comfort,  and  enable  thee  to  work  out  in  peace 
those  works  which  are  making  the  world  rich." 

"What  sayest  thou,  Titus?  Thou  and  Hen 
drickje  are  to  take  the  moneys  for  my  works ! 
Surely,  my  son,  that  is  very  strange !  Surely  I 
should  be  able  to  take  care  of  what  is  mine  own  !  " 

"  Oh !  yes,  father,  but  think  a  moment.  Do 
something  for  us.  Seest  thou  not?  Our  art-shop 
will  be  a  great  one,  if  we  alone  can  sell  Rem 
brandt's  works." 

"  Ah  !  yes !  I  see.  But  the  moneys  all  to  be  in 
your  hands,  saidst  thou?" 

"  Yes,  father,  indeed  I  said  that.  It  is  better  so, 
for  thee." 

"  But  why — why,  I  say  ?  Will  ye  give  me  money 
to  buy  my  prints  and  pictures?" 

"  Father !  dear  father  !  thou  needest  them  not. 
Thine  own  are  better  than  any  of  the  others.  Keep 
such  as  thou  wilt  to  ornament  thy  room,  but  let  us 

375 


REMBRANDT 

sell  the  rest.  Father!  believe  me,  it  is  best ;  and 
I  will  work  for  thee,  and  so  will  Hendrickje.  We 
will  give  our  lives  to  thee,  and  thou  shall  be  at 
peace,  and  never  shall  there  be  another  auction." 

"  Ha  !  speak  not  of  that !  I  tremble  at  the  very 
thought.  It  nearly  killed  me,  Titus.  It  is  cruel 
to  speak  of  it." 

"  Perhaps  I  spoke  in  haste,  adored  father,  but  it 
was  because  of  love.  I  knew  thou  wouldst  not 
wish  to  suffer  thus  again,  and  for  this  reason  do  I 
beg.  Let  us  care  for  thee.  Surely,  father,  thine 
art  is  so  vast  a  thing  that  there  is  room  for  naught 
else  in  that  great  mind  of  thine ;  nor  would  there 
be  room  for  aught  else  in  the  mind  of  any.  Lay 
down  thy  cares,  father.  Let  us  carry  them  for 
thee  ;  and  thou  shalt  paint,  and  etch,  and  be  great 
and  happy." 

"  Titus,  perhaps  it  would  be  better.  Methinks 
I  have  been  buying  some  prints  even  now.  Ah  ! 
let  me  show  you.  There  is  one  I  bought  yester 
day.  I  meant  not  to  show  it  to  thee,  for  I  spent 
all  I  had  to  buy  it ;  but  it  is  worth  a  thousand  times 
what  I  paid.  Look  !  " 

Rembrandt  went  to  a  cupboard,  and  brought  out 
the  magnificent  print  which  he  had  just  bought. 

"  Is  it  not  wonderful,  my  son  ?  Oh  !  how  I  love 
it!" 

"  Yes,  father,  indeed  it  is  ;  but  thine  own  works 
are  more  wonderful.  How  can  I  say  it? — but  I 
must.  The  landlord's  money  is  due,  and  thou 
hast  not  wherewithal  to  pay.  I  will  not  see  thee 
on  the  streets  again.  It  shall  not  be.  Nor  will 
Hendrickje  suffer  thus  again.  She  loves  thee  too 

376 


HOW  TITUS  OPENED  THE  PRINT-SHOP 

much.  I  pray  thee,  do  as  I  say.  Thou  canst 
then  be  at  peace,  and  loving  care  will  always  sur 
round  thee." 

"  Oh  !  well,  my  son,  this  is  a  strange  thing 
that  thou  dost  propose  ;  but,  after  all,  why  should  I 
resist?  Only  pride  and  self-indulgence  stand  in 
the  way,  and  I  really  care  only  for  the  painting. 
What  matters  it?  Be  it  as  thou  wilt,  my  son.  I 
ought  to  thank  thee,  I  suppose,  and  thank  also 
that  dear  Hendrickje,  who  has  been  so  true  to 
me;  but  it  is  hard  to  forego  my  prints.  Oh'. 
Titus!  thou  wilt  let  me  have  a  print  sometimes, 
if  there  comes  enough  of  money  from  my  works  ?  " 

"Yes!  yes!  beloved  father.  Surely  when  it  is 
best  thou  shalt  have  them.  It  i~  agreed,  then? 
Thou  wilt  do  as  we  ask?" 

"  I  will,  Titus.  Nay,  more,  I  thank  thee  both. 
I  am  grateful  for  your  love.  I  deserve  it  not.  I 
am  careless.  I  am  not  fit  to  be  trusted.  Yes,  I 
know.  I  see  it  sometimes,  and  then  again  I  for 
get.  Titus,  thy  father  is  growing  old,  but  he  can 
still  paint.  There  will  be  money  in  thy  print-shop. 
Be  it  as  thou  wilt.  Take  care  of  the  old  man, 
and  his  art  will  give  ye  what  it  can.  Yes,  I  will  do 
it,  but  I  am  sad.  My  heart  is  troubled.  I  have 
brought  trouble  to  those  I  love,  and,  oh !  how  I 
myself  have  suffered." 

"  I  have  suffered  with  thee,  and  so  has  Hen 
drickje  ;  but  now  will  come  brighter  days.  Thou 
shalt  be  at  peace,  and  for  us  all  will  be  comfort 
and  rest.  I  go  directly  to  Hendrickje  and  our 
shop  will  be  ready  in  a  few  days.  Father,  do 
not  sell  that  glorious  picture  on  the  easel  there. 

377 


REMBRANDT 

Let  us  sell  it.     Let  it  be  the  first-fruits  of  our 
venture." 

"  As  thou  wilt,  my  son.  I  have  a  purchaser  for 
it,  and  there  was  another  print  of  Diirer— 

"  Nay  !  father,  speak  not  of  that.  There  was  a 
purchaser,  thou  saidst?" 

"  Yes,  one  of  those  Jews.  I  hate  them,  but  they 
have  money." 

"Which  one  father?" 

"  I  care  not  to  say." 

"  Surely  thou  dost  not  mean  thou  hast  again 
dealt  with  Lazarus?" 

"  My  son,  it  is  not  thy  affair.  Take  the  picture, 
and  sell  it  as  best  thou  canst.  I  will  not  tell  thee 
the  Jew's  name.  He  will  come  for  the  picture 
soon  enough.  Curse  him  !  Titus !  hold  the  price 
high.  Belittle  not  thy  father's  work.  The  Jew 
can  pay.  Make  him  pay,  and  see  that  thou  dost 
conduct  thy  business  wisely." 

"  We  will  do  our  best,  and  thou  shalt  be  happy, 
and  all  that  thou  dost  need  shalt  thou  have." 

"  Titus,  thou  art  a  noble  son,  and  Hendrickje  is 
a  noble  woman.  Take  the  picture,  then,  even 
now,  lest  I  sell  it  if  the  Jew  come  again." 

"  That  will  I  do.  Farewell,  dearest  father.  I  will 
come  again  anon,  and  tell  thee  how  we  prosper." 

Titus  took  the  picture,  and  left  the  studio.  He 
was  trembling  all  over  with  emotion.  It  was  a 
fearful  thing  for  a  son  to  be  forced  to  treat  his 
father  thus.  Yet  well  knew  he  it  was  for  the 
best.  He  went  direct  to  Hendrickje  and  told  her 
his  story.  Their  tears  fell  together  as  they 
thought  of  the  helplessness  of  the  great  master. 

378 


CHAPTER   XLVIII 

Rembrandt   Marries  Hendrickje 

THUS  it  went  on.  Rembrandt  chafed  a  little 
at  first  under  these  new  conditions  of  life. 
At  times  he  almost  burst  his  bonds  when  some 
new  print  attracted  him — but  Titus  and  Hen 
drickje  watched  him  always.  They  gave  their 
lives  to  him.  They  had  resolved  that  he  should 
be  free  to  paint,  and  that  no  further  suffering 
should  come  to  him.  It  was  best.  Rembrandt 
himself  came  to  know  at  last  that  there  could  be 
no  better  life  for  him.  Indeed,  he  thought  but 
little  about  it.  Painting  was  what  he  wanted, 
and  he  was  free  to  paint.  All  else  was  forgot 
ten.  Picture  after  picture,  etching  after  etching 
was  produced,  and  all  went  to  the  art-shop  of 
Titus  and  Hendrickje,  which  grew  and  flourished 
mightily. 

One  day  Cornelia,  the  little  daughter  of  Hen 
drickje,  came  to  the  shop.  In  some  way  she  had 
escaped  from  her  nurse.  Titus  was  touched  at 
the  sight  of  her.  She  was  a  beautiful  child,  and 
well  did  Titus  know  there  was  no  acknowledged 
father.  Only  a  little  while  before  there  had  been 
sent  by  the  magistrates  a  public  reprimand  to 
Rembrandt  and  Hendrickje,  because  of  their  way 
of  living.  Titus  had  intercepted  it.  He  never 

379 


REMBRANDT 

let  his  father  see  it,  but  this  day  as  he  looked  on 
the  little  Cornelia,  he  felt  that  something  must  be 
done.  The  child  should  not  start  forth  in  life 
with  such  a  stigma  on  her  name. 

Titus  thought,  "Again  must  I  go  to  my  father 
and  reprove  him.  Oh !  God !  Thou  knowest 
how  I  love  him — but  Hendrickje  and  Cornelia 
must  not  be  left  thus.  It  shall  not  be.  Poor 
father!  why  should  I  judge  so  transcendent  a 
genius.  Thou  knowest !  O  Father  in  Heaven ! 
how  I  love  him — but  this  can  no  longer  be.  It  is 
for  his  sake  as  well  as  theirs  that  I  act.  God  help 
thee.  Titus  !  for  thou  art  the  son,  and  he  so  great 
a  father!  Nevertheless,  it  must  be  done.  I  will 
see  him,  nor  will  I  tell  Hendrickje." 

In  his  unselfish  love  Titus  went  again  to  his 
father.  He  found  him  in  the  studio  where  he 
knew  he  would  find  him,  engrossed  as  always  in 
his  work.  As  he  entered,  Rembrandt  started  up 
impatiently.  "Who  dares  interrupt  me?  I  am 
at  the  point  of  finishing  a  picture." 

"  It  is  I,  father,  thy  son." 

"  Oh,  Titus  ;  well,  what  is  it  then  ?  Seest  thou 
not  I  am  busy  with  my  work  ?  " 

"  Yes,  father,  that  I  see,  and  I  know  how  great 
it  is,  but  there  are  other  things  in  the  world  be 
sides  painting,  even  such  paintings  as  thine." 

"What  other  things?  What  meanest  thou, 
Titus?  Is  it  not  enough  that  I  give  to  thee  and 
to  Hendrickje  my  pictures,  and  receive  from  them 
but  a  mere  pittance,  only  enough  to  keep  me 
alive  ?  " 

"  Nay,  father,  it  is  not  enough,  though  I  grieve 
380 


REMBRANDT   MARRIES    HENDRICKJE 

to  say  it.  Hast  thou  thought  of  Cornelia? 
She  is  lovely.  Thou  art  blessed  in  such  a 
daughter." 

"  Cornelia !  yes,  indeed,  she  is  lovely.  I  am 
very  proud  of  her." 

"  Father,  if  thou  art  proud  of  her,  thou  wilt  re 
move  the  stigma  from  her  name." 

"Stigma!  What  sayest  thou,  Titus?  She  is 
my  daughter,  and  Hendrickje,  the  lovely  woman, 
is  her  mother.  Stigma  ?  indeed,  I  know  not  what 
thou  meanest." 

"  Father,  pardon  me.  I  know  it  is  not  meet  for 
me  to  talk  thus,  but  surely  it  is  true.  Thou  didst 
never  marry  Hendrickje." 

"  What  has  that  to  do  with  the  matter?  She 
never  asked  me  to  marry  her.  In  truth,  I  thought 
not  of  it.  She  loves  me,  and  I  love  her.  What 
need  of  more  ?  Go  ask  her  and  see  if  she  wishes 
a  marriage." 

"  I  have  asked  her.  For  herself  she  cares  not, 
but  for  Cornelia  she  does  care.  There  should  be 
no  stain  on  the  child's  name." 

"Ah!  ah!  that  is  true.  If  I  had  thought  of 
anything  but  my  art  I  should  have  known  of  that 
long  ago.  My  daughter !  Yes,  and  Hendrickje's 
too !  They  both  are  suffering  shame  because  of 
me.  Will  never  my  selfishness  let  go  its  hold 
upon  me?  What  is  to  be  done,  Titus?" 

"  Go  with  her  to  the  church,  father,  go  at  once. 
Marry  her  there  before  the  altar — then  can  there 
be  no  shame  for  her,  nor  for  thee,  and  none  for 
the  lovely  little  one." 

"  Titus,    thou    hast    aroused     my    conscience. 


REMBRANDT 

This  should  have  been  done  long  before.  Where 
is  Hendrickje  ?  " 

"  She  is  not  far  off,  father." 

"  Bid  her  come  here.  I  would  speak  with  her 
alone." 

Titus  left  and  sought  Hendrickje.  Soon  she 
came,  and  entered  the  studio  with  drooping  head. 

"  Hendrickje,"  said  Rembrandt,  "  I  have  done 
thee  a  wrong,  and  I  have  wronged  our  daughter." 

"  Say  not  that,  dear  lord  ;  asked  I  ever  for  aught 
but  thy  love,  and  that  hast  thou  given  me  in  full 
measure,  nor  did  I  ever  deserve  it." 

"  Talk  not  thus,  Hendrickje.  There  is  a  wrong, 
and  I  am  guilty.  Thou  knowest  it,  and  our 
daughter  is  shamed.  Titus  just  told  me  that. 
Hendrickje,  hast  thou  a  white  veil  ?  " 

"  Yes,  my  lord,  but  why  askest  thou  that  ques 
tion?" 

"  Don  it,  I  pray  thee,  and  make  thee  ready  for 
the  church.  I  will  send  for  Hendrik,  and  Titus 
is  already  here.  We  will  go  to  the  church,  be 
loved,  and  be  married." 

Hendrickje  almost  fainted  from  excess  of  joy  ; 
but  recovering  herself,  she  came  to  Rembrandt, 
and  kissed  him  again  and  again. 

"  Thou  wilt  do  that  for  me  ?  To  be  the  wife 
of  the  greatest  of  masters !  Oh !  let  not  my 
strength  fail  me,  for  it  is  too  much."  She  trem 
bled  like  an  aspen  leaf.  Rembrandt  caressed  her 
—he  held  her  close  to  his  heart.  The  power  of 
his  passion  gave  her  new  strength.  Soon  she 
went  and  arranged  herself  in  bridal  attire. 

Meanwhile,  Rembrandt  had  sent  Jan  for  Hen- 
382 


REMBRANDT    MARRIES    HENDRICKJE 

drik  and   his  wife,  and  also  for  Jan  Six.     They 
were  to  witness  the  marriage. 

"  What  is  to  say,  master?  What  is  it,  master? 
Marriage,  didst  say  ?  witness  ?  What  is  it,  mas 
ter  ?  I  know  not." 

"  Thou  blockhead.  Go  to  Hendrik's.  Surely 
thou  knowest  his  print-shop  ?  " 

"  Oh  !  yes,  master,  I  know  it  well,  but  what  to 
say  ?  " 

"  I  will  tell  thee,  idiot.  Tell  Hendrik  and  his 
wife,  and  afterward  Jan  Six,  to  come  hither  di 
rectly,  for  Rembrandt  would  have  them  go  to 
the  church  with  him  to  witness  his  marriage. 
Dost  understand  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes,  master,  I  understand,  master.  Come 
directly,  witness,  is  that  right,  master  ?  " 

"  Yes,  stupid,  witness  what?" 

"  Witness  his — his — marriage,  saidst  thou,  mas 
ter?  " 

"  I  said  it.  Go  now  and  be  quick  about  it. 
You  might  say  that  Hendrickje  is  the  bride." 

"  Hendrickje  is  the  bride?  I  might  say!  Oh!  yes! 
master.  I  will  say  it.  I  thought  she  was  a  bride 
before.  Hendrickje  is  the  bride,  thou  sayest." 

"  Go  quickly, and  say  what  I  have  told  thee  to  say, 
and  make  no  mistake,  or  it  will  go  ill  with  thee." 

"  I  go,  I  go,  master."  And  Jan  departed  on 
his  errand.  Rembrandt  sat  thinking  for  a  mo 
ment  or  two. 

"  This  should  have  been  done  long  ago.  Now 
shall  all  be  done  in  due  form  as  becomes  the 
lovely  woman,  and  the  beautiful  daughter."  And 
soon  he  had  donned  garments  suitable  for  the  wed- 

383 


REMBRANDT 

ding  ceremony,  and  was  ready  to  greet  Hendrickje 
as  she  came  blushing  from  her  room.  It  was  not 
long  before  Jan  Six  came,  the  grave  and  noble 
burgomaster. 

"  I  have  long  wished  this,  Rembrandt,  my  dear 
friend.  It  is  well.  I  am  glad  and  proud  to  go 
with  thee  to  the  church." 

Soon  after  came  Hendrik  and  his  wife.  The 
worthy  print-seller  was  puffing  a  little  and  some 
what  red  in  the  face  because  of  his  hurry.  Nev 
ertheless,  he  said  to  Rembrandt,  "  Right  glad  am 
I,  cousin.  Yes!  yes!  indeed  the  time  had  come  ! 
Oh  !  oh  !  Hendrik  is  glad,  and  thou  must  etch 
that  dear  Cornelia.  Give  me  the  print." 

"  Nay,  that  can  I  not  do,  Cousin  Hendrik.  I 
am  under  bonds.  This  dear  Hendrickje  and  this 
son  who  loves  me — they  take  all  I  have." 

"Yes  !  yes!  I  see,  and  I  fear  Ilendrik  will  not 
prosper  because  he  cannot  sell  Rembrandt's  works. 
But,  no  matter,  it  is  best  so.  Let  us  go  to  the 
church.  I  trust  thou  hast  some  refreshment  after 
ward,  for  I  am  already  athirst,  Cousin  Rembrandt." 

"  Hendrik,  come  hither.  There  is  a  moment 
yet  before  we  go,  and  thou  wilt  find  a  flagon  of 
Rhenish  on  the  table." 

Hendrik  refreshed  himself,  and,  much  comforted, 
joined  the  company.  They  went  to  the  oude 
kerk,  once  a  cathedral  in  the  days  of  Alva — now 
stripped  of  its  ornaments,  bereft  of  its  chapels, 
plain,  severe,  but  still  with  the  grand  lines  of  the 
columns  and  the  arches.  There  before  the  pulpit 
stood  Rembrandt  and  Hendrickje,  and  the  minis 
ter  pronounced  them  man  and  wife. 

384 


CHAPTER  XLIX 

The  Order  from  the  Syndics 

NOW  came  some  tranquil  days.  Rembrandt's 
art  was  by  no  means  weakened.  On  the 
contrary,  it  was  stronger  than  ever  before.  True, 
he  was  deserted,  left  almost  solitary,  but  there 
were  some  still  who  cared  for  him,  and  even  some 
pupils  still  came  to  seek  his  instruction.  It 
seemed  to  him  that  prosperity  had  come  again, 
for  Titus  and  Hendrickje  sold  his  pictures,  and 
Titus  even  went  abroad  with  portfolios  of  his 
father's  etchings,  and  sold  them  where  he  could. 

"  My  dearest,"  Rembrandt  said  one  day,  "  let 
us  take  a  little  house ;  I  know  one  on  the  Rosen- 
gracht.  It  is  a  little  one,  but  it  is  not  bad.  It  is 
far  better  than  an  inn.  Surely  we  can  live  there 
in  comfort.  Can  I  not  paint?  " 

"  My  lord,  thou  canst,  and  methinks  it  may  be 
well  for  us  to  have  a  home,  for  I  am  tired  of  the 
inn,  and  I  do  not  feel  strong.  I  am  weary,  and 
then  thou  knowest,  my  lord,  that  Titus  would  be 
wedded." 

"  Yes  !  yes  !  truly,  and  to  Saskia's  cousin.  Let 
them  be  wedded,  and  we  will  live  together  in  the 
little  home.  My  days  are  numbered.  It  will  not 
be  long." 

"  Nay,  my  dear  lord,  it  is    my  days   that   are 

385 


REMBRANDT 

numbered.  I  shall  go  long  before  thee.  Stay 
thou  and  make  the  world  glad  with  thy  master 
pieces.  Stay  as  long  as  thou  canst,  and  lay  not 
down  the  brush  until  thy  last  breath  fails  thee. 
Promise  me  that,  my  own  lord,  my  king  of  all 
painters." 

"I  promise,  but  why  speak  thus?  Art  thou 
really  ill,  dearest  Hendrickje?  " 

"  I  fear  it,  but  think  not  of  it.  Take  the  house. 
It  is  well.  Titus  will  care  for  thee  when  I  am 
gone." 

"  Speak  not  thus,  Hendrickje  !  Thou,  too,  shalt 
live  there  in  peace.  Banish  these  gloomy  thoughts. 
There  is  no  cause  for  them.  Surely  there  is  no 
cause.  Thou  art  well,  Hendrickje,  only  a  little 
tired  perhaps.  In  the  new  home  will  be  happi 
ness  for  thee  as  well  as  for  me.  I  go  to  seek  it 
now.  I  will  close  with  the  offer.  We  can  be 
happy  there,  though  it  is  but  a  little  place." 

"  As  thou  wilt,  my  lord.  I  am  always  happy 
with  thee." 

It  was  done  as  Rembrandt  had  said,  and  Hen 
drickje  for  a  little  time  was  mistress  of  her  own 
home.  The  dignity  and  pride,  that  came  from 
being  the  head  of  Rembrandt's  household,  gave 
her  new  strength,  and  for  a  time  it  seemed  that 
her  health  might  be  better. 

Titus  was  afterward  wedded,  and  there  was 
much  joy  in  the  simple  home. 

"  Hendrickje,"  said  Rembrandt  one  day,  "  I 
have  still  a  friend,  even  another  besides  Jan  Six. 
It  is  Van  cle  Cappelle.  Thou  knowest  the  man. 
What  thinkest  thou,  dearest  Hendrickje,  that  he 

386 


THE  ORDER  FROM  THE  SYNDICS 

has  done  for  me  ?  Nay,  thou  couldst  not  guess. 
Nor  would  I  have  thee  guess,  for  I  would  fain 
tell  thee.  Oh!  Hendrickje,  he  has  been  to  the 
guild  of  the  cloth  drapers,  and  he  has  gotten  for 
me  there  a  commission  to  paint  them.  Once 
more  a  Doelen  picture  —  once  more  in  my  last 
years!  It  shall  be  the  best  of  all.  Thanks  to 
thee,  Hendrickje,  there  shall  be  more  color  in  it, 
but  alas!  there  is  one  trouble.  Those  Dutch 
men  insist  upon  having  each  his  equal  share  in 
the  picture.  How  can  I  do  it?  You  remember, 
Hendrickje,  the  '  Night- Watch,'  and  how  offend 
ed  they  were  because  some  did  not  have  the 
place  they  thought  their  due.  Now  they  are 
providing  beforehand  against  this  neglect,  and 
each  will  have  his  proper  place,  nor  be  eclipsed 
by  any  other.  Oh  !  the  vanity  of  them  all !  How 
can  I  do  it?  Nay,  but  I  will.  I  will  make  a  pict 
ure,  nevertheless,  and  it  shall  be  so  glowing  in 
color  that  none  will  care  for  the  lack  of  compo 
sition.  Yes  !  and  I  will  give  their  characters  too. 
Hendrickje,  I  will  paint  it.  I  can  paint  it,  in  spite 
of  all  their  restrictions." 

"  Indeed,  I  know  it,  my  lord ;  what  is  there 
thou  couldst  not  paint?  Surely,  I  believe  it  will 
be  thy  masterpiece,  and  Hendrickje  will  live  to 
see  it.  She  could  not  die  until  her  eyes  had  feast 
ed  on  her  lord's  greatest  work." 

"  Oh,  talk  not  thus,  Hendrickje.  Yet  shalt  thou 
see  many  great  works  of  mine,  but  this  one  must 
I  begin  at  once,  for  the  commission  is  urgent,  and 
brooks  not  delay." 

Rembrandt  left  her,  and  went  direct  to  the  hall 

387 


REMBRANDT 

of  the  cloth  drapers.  He  was  met  with  dignity, 
and  some  little  reserve,  by  their  chief.  The  great 
painter  had  been  so  long  out  of  fashion  in  Am 
sterdam  that  it  was  almost  under  protest,  despite 
the  urgent  solicitations  of  Van  de  Cappelle  that 
they  had  given  him  the  commission. 

"  Mynheer  Rembrandt,"  said  their  chief,  "  you 
understand,  I  hope,  the  conditions  under  which 
this  picture  is  to  be  painted.  These  gentlemen 
here,  and  I,  are  the  chief  men  of  this  guild.  We 
are  the  Syndics,  and  we  wish  our  portraits  that 
together  we  may  remain  here  on  the  walls  of  our 
guild  hall." 

•'  I  see,  I  know.  Yes.  How  many  should  there 
be — those  who  direct  the  affairs  of  the  guild  ? 
How  many  are  there?  " 

"  There  are  six  of  us ;  I  trust  that  is  not  too 
many  for  an  art  like  yours  to  do  justice  to  us  all 
on  one  canvas." 

"  Nay  !  nay  !  Surely  I  can  do  that,  but  have 
you  any  special  functions?  Is  there  aught  asso 
ciated  with  your  guild  life  that  is  more  promi 
nent  than  anything  else  as  the  years  go  on  ?" 

"  Now,  Mynheer  van  Ludin,  what  might  it  be 
that  is  most  important  in  the  year?  " 

"  Ah !  surely,  my  chief,  it  is  the  casting  up  of 
the  accounts." 

"  And  how  do  you  do  that?"  said  Rembrandt. 
"  Will  you  show  me  the  room  where  you  do  it 
and  the  account-book?" 

"  Why,  yes,  but  what  matters  it  ?  We  want  our 
portraits !  " 

"  You  shall  all  have  your  portraits,  but  why 
388 


THE  ORDER  FROM  THE  SYNDICS 

not  the  room  too,  and  the  book,  and  the  table  on 
which  you  place  it?  Is  there  a  beautiful  cloth 
that  you  put  on  the  table?  Methinks  there  must 
be  one,  since  you  are  so  rich." 

"A  cloth? — indeed!  yes,"  said  the  chief.  "It 
came  from  the  Indies.  It  is  very  beautiful,  but 
what  has  that  to  do  with  the  matter?  We  want 
our  portraits." 

"  I  know.  Ye  shall  have  them,  but  bring  me 
cloth.  Show  me  the  room.  Bring  the  account- 
book." 

"  This  is  passing  strange,  Mynheer  painter.  I 
see  not  what  it  has  to  do  with  the  portraits." 

"  Do  as  I  say,  I  beg,  and  let  me  see  you  all  in 
the  room,  where  you  do  what  is  your  hardest 
thing  to  do,  the  casting  up  of  the  accounts  of  the 
year." 

They  grumbled  a  little.  One  or  two  of  them 
thought:  "Something  like  the  '  Night- Watch  ' 
might  happen  here,  and  we  will  have  none  of 
that."  Nevertheless,  the  dominating  spirit  of  the 
painter  prevailed,  and  presently  he  was  led  to  the 
private  room  of  the  guild's  officers.  The  big 
account-book  was  brought  out.  The  splendid 
Indian  cloth  was  put  upon  the  table,  and  almost 
instinctively  these  thrifty  burghers  gathered 
about  it. 

"  I  have  it,"  said  Rembrandt.  "  Let  me  paint. 
Stay  where  you  are,  I  will  sketch  now.  Later 
will  I  complete  the  portrait  of  each."  The  aston 
ished  burghers  stayed  just  where  they  were.  It 
was  like  Peter  and  Geertje  on  the  barge.  Their 
pictures  were  taken  before  they  knew  it,  though 

389 


REMBRANDT 

they  were  only  sketched,  and  to  be  developed 
later. 

"  I  thank  you,  oh !  how  heartily  I  thank  you. 
The  picture  shall  be  painted.  Come  kindly  to 
my  studio,  one  at  a  time,  and  now  that  I  have  the 
composition  and  the  color,  be  sure  each  and  all 
shall  have  his  due  place  in  the  finished  work." 

One  by  one  came  the  leaders -of  the  cloth  guild. 
One  by  one  each  lived  upon  the  canvas.  Some 
times  one  came  with  another,  and  looked  with 
wonder  on  the  vivid  presentment  both  of  his  own 
form  and  face,  and  that  of  his  comrades. 

"  It  is  a  marvel,  Wilhelm.  I  see  not  how  he  has 
the  life  of  all  of  us ;  yet  he  has." 

"  It  is  true,  Hans." 

"What  were  you  saying,  my  friends?"  said 
Rembrandt.  "  Wait  till  you  see  the  color  of  the 
cloth,  and  the  light  from  the  window  up  yonder. 
I  mean  to  paint  you  a  picture,  but  you  shall  all 
live  in  it." 

"  Yea,  that  is  true.  Never  was  Hans  more  like 
himself  than  he  is  there." 

"Not  more  like  than  thou  art,  friend  Wilhelm. 
Why,  it  is  thy  very  self." 

"  I  thank  you  for  your  kind  words.  Now  let 
the  others  come.  Then  must  I  study  once  more 
the  cloth  in  the  light  of  that  little  room,  and  soon 
your  guild  picture  will  be  done." 

Rembrandt  went  back  to  his  studio.  He 
opened  a  window  through  which  streamed  the 
sunlight.  He  took  not  the  cloth  he  had  seen  in 
the  guild  rooms,  but  another  that  Hendrickje  had 
saved  for  him  from  the  wreck  of  the  auction.  He 

390 


THE  ORDER  FROM  THE  SYNDICS 

put  it  in  the  streaming  sunlight.  The  reds  and 
the  golds  came  out.  How  splendid !  Whence 
this  splendor  of  color?  It  was  not  in  the  earlier 
pictures.  Now  this  was  like  a  picture  from  the 
Orient,  save  for  the  grave  garb  of  the  Syndics, 
only  black  and  white,  but  so  irradiated  by  the 
surroundings  that  it  seemed  almost  brilliant. 


391 


CHAPTER  L 

The  Last  Days  of  Hendrickje 

r  I  "'HE  picture  was  finished  and  the  Syndics 
A  liked  it.  Before  they  came  to  take  it  away 
Rembrandt  took  it  to  Hendrickje's  room.  She 
was  now  confined  to  her  bed,  and  daily  growing 
weaker.  Even  Rembrandt,  absorbed  as  he  was  in 
his  art,  could  not  fail  to  see  that  her  strength  was 
nearly  gone.  Still  she  might  linger  for  awhile. 
Perhaps  the  picture  would  give  her  new  strength. 
Who  could  tell? 

Rembrandt  placed  the  painting  on  the  arms  of 
a  high-backed,  carved  chair  in  such  a  way  that 
the  light  would  fall  across  it  from  the  window, 
in  the  same  way  as  it  did  when  he  painted  it. 
Hendrickje  started  up  from  her  pillow  as  one  in 
spired.  "  Oh  !  my  lord,  what  hast  thou  done  ? 
Surely  never  hast  thou  equalled  that.!  Oh  !  the 
glory  of  the  color!  I  thank  God  that  I  have  lived 
to  see  it."  Long  did  Hendrickje  feast  her  eyes 
upon  the  magnificent  work.  Its  golden  glow 
seemed  to  her  almost  like  the  opening  of  heaven's 
gates.  And  then  there  was  the  life  of  the  men  to 
be  kept  there  forever  on  the  canvas.  It  seemed 
almost  like  an  immortality.  Exhausted  at  last  by 
emotion,  she  sank  back  again  among  the  pillows, 
murmuring,  "  Ah !  so  has  the  immortal  master 

392 


THE    LAST    DAYS    OF    HENDRICKJE " 

painted  me  again  and  again !  Hendrickje  will 
not  be  forgotten.  Hendrickje  is  the  master's 
wife.  What  higher  lot  could  be  ?  I  shall  die  con 
tent.  No  woman  has  been  honored  as  has  been 
the  poor  peasant  girl  from  Zealand.  But  I  am 
sorry  to  leave  my  lord  alone.  Oh !  what  will  he 
do?  He  brooks  not  loneliness.  Nay!  but  the  art 
is  always  with  him.  That  will  sustain  him.  I 
wonder  where  is  Albrecht  ?  He  should  come 
now  and  comfort  his  friend.  He  is  too  selfish  in 
his  happiness."  Then  aloud  : 

"  Rembrandt,  my  lord,  the  picture  is  glorious. 
It  is  thy  best,  and  Hendrickje  has  lived  to  see  it. 
Send  now  for  a  notary,  for  I  would  make  my  will, 
and  Rembrandt,  my  own  dearest,  best  beloved, 
since  I  must  leave  thee,  write,  I  beg,  to  Albrecht, 
and  bid  him  come  hither  with  his  beauteous  lady, 
that  thou  mayest  have  companionship,  for  it  is 
not  well  for  thee  to  be  alone." 

"  What  meanest  thou,  Hendrickje  ?  Surely  thou 
art  better  now.  Indeed,  thou  wilt  not  leave  me." 

"  No,  not  yet,  but  send  for  the  notary,  and  write 
to  Albrecht,  I  beg  of  thee." 

Rembrandt,  half-dreaming,  for  the  thought  of 
the  Syndics  was  still  upon  him,  did  as  Hendrickje 
had  asked.  The  will  was  made.  Cornelia  was 
cared  for,  and  so  was  Titus,  and  Rembrandt.  He 
was  made  the  guardian  of  both. 

"Write  as  I  tell  thee,  beloved,"  said  Hendrickje. 

"  I  am  but  little  accustomed  to  writing,  my  own, 
but  I  will  obey  thee." 

"  Write  thus,  then,  if  thou  hast  thy  writing- 
tablet  there." 

393 


REMBRANDT 

"  I  have  it.     What  wouldst  thou  have  me  sa)'  ?" 

"  This.  '  Come  to  me,  dear  Albrecht,  and  bring 
with  thee  Hildegarde,  for  I  am  lonely,  and  I 
would  have  thee  with  me.'  " 

"  Nay,  dearest,  I  cannot  write  that  now.  I  can 
not  see  to  write  such  words." 

"  But  that  must  thou  write,  for  it  will  be  long 
ere  the  letter  comes  to  him,  and  when  it  does 
come,  Hendrickje  will  not  be  here.  I  know  it." 

"  I  will  write  as  thou  sayest,  but  thou  dost  tort 
ure  me.  I  cannot  be  thus,  my  love.  Thou  shalt 
not  go." 

"  Nay,  but  I  must.  Write  more.  Tell  him  to 
come  and  stay  with  thee,  and  help  on  with  thy 
great  work.  Say  this, '  Albrecht,  thou  hast  always 
been  my  friend ;  I  need  thee  now,  for  I  am  alone. 
Surely  thou  hast  not  forgotten  thy  friend,  and 
now  he  needs  thee.'  " 

Rembrandt  put  down  the  words  as  Hendrickje 
spoke  them.  When  the  letter  was  finished  she 
rallied  somewhat — indeed,  it  seemed  for  awhile 
that  she  might  even  regain  her  strength.  Rem 
brandt  kept  back  the  letter.  He  sent  it  not  in 
the  hope  that  it  might  not  be  needed;  but  as  the 
weeks  passed  on,  it  became  only  too  clear  that 
Hendrickje's  days  were  numbered.  At  last  she 
passed  away  peacefully,  saying,  "  I  have  loved  thee, 
my  lord,  and  thou  hast  honored  me  with  thy  love. 
I  have  asked  no  more  in  this  world.  May  the 
good  Lord  have  mercy  on  me,  and  take  me  to 
Himself !  " 

Thus  did  she  pass  away.  Rembrandt  was 
stunned.  Even  Titus  was  unable  to  comfort  him. 

394 


THE   LAST   DAYS    OF    HENDRICKJE 

Nor  did  Titus  stay  long  with  him.  He,  too,  was 
called  away,  and  the  old  painter  was  left  solitary 
in  his  home.  Hardly  was  there  a  friend  to  give 
him  a  word  of  cheer,  yet  still  he  painted.  Naught 
else  could  he  do.  The  passion  for  art  was  still 
upon  him.  No  grief,  no  triumph  could  make  that 
hand  tremble.  There  was  no  tragedy  that  could 
dim  the  sight  of  that  eye,  that  had  seen  so  deeply 
into  human  character.  He  painted,  and  he  kept 
on  painting,  but  at  last  the  letter  was  sent  to 
Albrecht.  In  beautiful  Nuremberg,  Albrecht  and 
Hildegarde  had  long  been  living  in  one  of  those 
quaint  houses  with  high  gables  and  many  stories 
in  what  seemed  the  roof.  Happy  had  they  been. 
Children  had  come  to  them,  beautiful  blond  Ger 
mans.  Hildegarde  thought  each  one  of  them 
would  be  an  artist.  Albrecht  did  not  paint, 
though  Hildegarde  always  told  him  that  he  could. 
"  Nay,"  he  said,  "  I  have  seen  Rembrandt  paint. 
After  that  I  could  never  touch  a  brush.  He  is 
the  master  of  us  all." 

"  Nay,  but,  Albrecht,  why  dost  thou  not  try?    I 
know  thou  canst  do  great  things." 

"  That  is  thy  fondness,  beloved.     There  is  one 
thing  I  would  do.     I  would  see  the  master  again. 
Wilt  thou  go  with  me  to  Amsterdam  ?" 
"  Gladly  will  I  go,  if  thou  dost  wish  it." 
"  I  wonder  much   I    have  no  word  from   Rem 
brandt.     My  heart  misgives  me  about  him.     Has 
there  been  no  letter,  dearest  ?  " 

"  Nay,  I  should  have  given  it  to  thee." 
"Yes,  truly,  but  it  is  strange.     We  will  wait 
yet  a  little  and  if  I  have  no  word  from  him,  surely 

395 


REMBRANDT 

will  I  go  to  Amsterdam,  and  thou  shalt  go  with 
me.  Once  before,  dost  thou  remember?  I  did 
dream  about  him  when  he  was  in  trouble,  and  my 
dream  came  true.  Dost  remember,  my  own  ?" 

"  Ah  !  yes,  that  was  when  they  sold  his  house 
and  his  pictures." 

"  Indeed,  it  was.  The  same  feeling  is  upon  me 
now — not  this  time  a  dream,  but  I  am  sure  Rem 
brandt  will  call  for  me  and  for  thee.  There  will 
be  a  letter." 

The  letter  that  Hendrickje  had  told  Rem 
brandt  to  write  came  a  few  days  later. 

"  What  said  I,  dearest  Hildegarde?  I  knew  the 
master  was  in  trouble.  Let  us  go  at  once." 


396 


CHAPTER   LI 


IT  was  a  long  journey  from  Nuremberg  to  Am 
sterdam,  and  in  those  troublous  days  it  was 
not  without  its  perils.  Nevertheless,  Albrecht 
and  Hildegarde  came  at  last  to  the  great  city  of 
the  Low  Countries,  and  at  once  they  sought  Rem 
brandt.  It  was  hard  to  find  him.  So  friendless 
and  alone  was  he  that  few  knew  where  he  dwelt. 
But  Hildegarde  remembered  again  Jan  Six,  and 
they  went  to  the  burgomaster's  house  and  there 
found  where  Rembrandt  was  now  living.  Jan 
Six  said  to  them  :  "  I  fear  the  master  is  in  great 
trouble.  Sometimes  I  go  to  see  him.  He  is 
alone.  Would  I  could  see  him  more  often,  but 
my  duties  forbid.  Sometimes  I  fear  some  harm 
may  come  to  him.  It  is  not  well  for  such  a  man 
to  be  alone — so  great  a  man — the  greatest  of  all 
our  painters." 

"  True,  indeed,"  said  Albrecht.  "  We  will  go  to 
him  directly.  In  the  Rosengracht,  thou  sayest?  " 

"  Yes,  friend,  it  is  there  that  he  lives." 

Then  Albrecht  and  Hildegarde  took  their  way 
to  the  last  home  of  Rembrandt. 

That  afternoon  the  painter  had  been  inspired 
more  than  ever  before.  "  What  is  this  golden 
glory — what  means  it?  Is  Saskia  there?  Ah! 

397 


REMBRANDT 

yes,  I  see  her  face !  Lovely  Saskia  !  Beloved  ! 
thou  didst  all  for  me.  Thou  gavest  all  and  what 
did  I  give?  Ah  !  there  is  the  golden  glory  again  ! 
What  is  that?  Hendrickje?  and  didst  thou  too 
give  all  for  me?  It  is  true.  I  must  paint  it.  Oh  ! 
the  golden  glory  !  It  is  of  this  world  or  the 
other?  I  know  not.  Let  me  paint." 

He  seized  his  palette  and  his  brush  and  went 
to  the  easel.  "  What  shall  I  paint?  Ah  !  I  see  ! 
I  have  only  painted  people  as  they  live  here. 
Let  me  paint  Saskia  in  the  other  world  !  There 
is  another  world.  I  will  paint  Hendrickje  there 
too.  Both  will  I  paint !  Oh  !  the  nobleness,  the 
purity,  the  greatness !  Rembrandt !  thou  hast 
never  painted  that !  An  artist  thou  art,  yes,  but 
why  not  have  painted  the  greatness  of  these  souls 
that  have  lived  beside  thee  ?  I  will  paint  it.  I 
will.  I  have  sought  this  life  only.  Oh  !  God  ! 
grant  something  of  the  other!  1  see  it  now  ere  I 
go  hence — but  it  is  too  late,  oh  !  I  fear  it  is  too 
late.  Oh  !  why  thought  I  not  of  the  heavenly 
before  ?  My  art  would  have  been  better.  I  will 
paint  now.  Surely  I  see  it.  Saskia  is  there. 
Hendrickje  is  there.  Titus  is  there.  Let  me 
paint.  Oh  !  let  me  paint.  Whence  comes  that 
glory  ?  Surely  never  saw  I  light  like  that  on  earth. 
I  cannot  paint  it.  Oh  !  God,  why  cannot  I  paint 
it  ?  Let  me  die  then.  I  would  paint  them  in  their 
glory,  but  my  art  fails  me.  Nay,  rather  would  I 
join  them.  I  have  failed.  I  thought  that  art 
could  do  all,  but  how  paint  Saskia  in  that  pure 
light?  I  see  it.  I  cannot  paint  it.  I  cannot 
paint — Rembrandt!  thou  canst  not  paint — what 

398 


THE    DEATH    OF    REMBRANDT , 

has  come? — what? — what?  not  paint? — where  is 
my  brush?  Let  me  try  again!  Cannot  paint? 
Nay  !  it  is  true,  but  who  could  paint  that  vision  ? 
I  will  try  once  more."  Rembrandt  arose  and  went 
toward  the  canvas,  brush  in  hand,  intent  upon 
the  portrayal  of  the  vision  he  had  seen.  He  did 
not  reach  the  canvas,  but  fell  backward,  brush 
and  palette  in  hand,  and  lay  prone  upon  the  floor 
— dead. 

It  was  but  a  little  time  after,  when  Albrecht 
and  Hildegarde  came  to  the  studio  and  asked  for 
the  master. 

"  He  is  above,  yonder,"  said  the  servant. 

They  went  up  and  opened  the  door  after  knock 
ing  vainly. 

There  lay  the  master  before  the  easel  on  which 
stood  the  half-finished  picture  full  of  a  mystery, 
and  a  glory  not  known  before  in  Rembrandt's 
work. 

Both  Albrecht  and  Hildegarde  started  back  in 
horror. 

"  Surely  !  surely !  it  cannot  be  that  he  is  dead, 
Hildegarde.  He!  the  painter  of  life?  Let  me 
see,  I  will  go  to  him." 

Albrecht  went  and  put  his  hand  upon  the  heart. 
It  had  long  been  still.  The  hands  were  icy  cold. 

"  Oh  !  Albrecht !  he  is  dead.  Surely  thou 
couldst  see  that! " 

"  Yes,  but  I  could  not  believe  him  dead,  and 
with  his  brush  and  his  palette  in  his  hands ! 
What  thinkest  thou  he  was  trying  to  paint,  Hil 
degarde,  for  there  is  the  canvas  on  which  he  was 

o  * 

working  but  a  little  while  ago?" 

399 


REMBRANDT 

"  I  know  not,  but  perhaps  it  was  the  glow  of 
heaven.  It  would  seem  to  me  that  he  was  seek 
ing  there  the  forms  of  those  he  loved,  and  would 
surround  them  with  such  glory  as  his  art  could 
give." 

"  It  is  true,  Hildegarde.  The  great  master  has 
died  in  the  attempt  to  paint  the  very  glory  of 
heaven  itself." 


400 


